


Alone Together

by Spnfandom8



Category: Batman - All Media Types, NCIS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 46,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27047767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spnfandom8/pseuds/Spnfandom8
Summary: Timothy McGee has secrets. Darker secrets than anyone that knows him could have imagined, ones that are pushing their way towards the light, with a little help from his team.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is, honestly, my personal favorite piece that I've ever written, and I hope someone will give it a shot. Enjoy! :)

I shift in my seat as my back continues to bother me, ignoring the stares i’m getting from my team.   
I try and focus on my paperwork, only to get distracted by my back, and the memories it drags with it, shaking my head, I try and ignore the fact that the anniversary is only a few days away, that Damian hasn’t called asking me to attend the memorial, and that my back is constantly preventing me from getting comfortable in my chair.   
I breathe a sigh of relief when Gibb’s leaves the room, only to return a few moments later, telling us to grab our go bags and be in the car in 5.   
I’m out of my seat before he can finish speaking, grimacing in pain, because when my back gets like this, I can’t stand sitting down for too long, yet standing up is almost as painful, although I know that after a few minutes of moving the muscles should start to loosen, lessening at least some of the pain.   
I somehow end up on an elevator with Gibb’s, who stops it about halfway down, staring me down as he puts together what exactly he wants to ask me.   
“What’s happening?” he asks, going for a broad question, even though I know what he’s talking about.   
“Nothing” I answer, sounding nonchalant.   
“Bull” he retorts, his searing look telling me to ‘try again’   
“An old back injury is bothering me, that’s all. I’ll be fine once I move around” I tell him, fudging the truth a bit.   
He just nods, narrowing his eyes before he pulls the emergency stop on the elevator, sending us back towards the ground. 

The case was insanely easy, although physically draining, the suspect, and culprit, was still on the scene when we got there, meaning we had to chase him around a locked down Marine Base for a few hours, resulting in everyone being covered in mud, some blood, and a whole lot of sweat and frustration.   
My back officially hates me, and i’m tired as hell, considering I haven’t slept more than a few hours due to my back and the time of year, and Tony is somehow, still talking, and annoying the shit out of anyone within hearing distance.   
I tune him out as we make the semi-short drive back to the NCIS offices so everyone can shower and go home.   
When we get there, I decide fuck it, and hope that everyone is either too tired or too annoyed to be looking at me, because I need to get the mud off me, and my back would very much appreciate a hot shower before I attempt driving home.   
I shuffle with Gibbs and Tony to the guys locker room, peeling off my muddy clothes and wrapping a towel around my waist before I go to a shower stall, scrubbing my skin clean of the muck, and then spending a few minutes letting the decently pressured hot water stream down my back.   
I quickly dry off, once again wrapping the towel around my waist before going to my locker to grab my clothes and get dressed, but when I get there, Tony and Gibbs are there too, both of them already half dressed, and when Tony turns, his mouth already open to no doubt spout something to get on my nerves, his eyes widen instead, his words getting frozen in his throat.   
“What the fuck McGeek?” he asks, and although I know what he’s alluding to, I raise an eyebrow, pretending to be wondering what he’s talking about.   
“Do you not own a suit that’s actually your size? Who the hell knew you had anything under that suit aside from pudge, jesus christ, you have muscles!” he says, and I look down at my torso, waiting for him to comment on the scars, which, now that he’s looking at me, he’s bound to notice.   
“One, I own plenty of suits that fit, I just don’t wear them anymore. Two, Gibbs knew I wasn’t pudgy” I tell him tiredly   
“How would Gibbs know that?” he asks, screwing his face up in confusion.   
“He ran my physical” I comment, looking up to find blue eyes boring into mine, causing me to look down and momentarily squeeze my eyes shut, shutting out the images of someone else’s blue eyes.   
The truth is, Gibbs doesn’t intimidate me, or scare me, at least not like the rest of the team thinks he does.   
I don’t like looking him in the eyes, because his are the same color as theirs were.   
I flinch when he appears out of nowhere with a growled command, not because I didn’t know he was there, but because he’s only a few octaves off from bringing me hurtling back into childhood memories, hurtling back into memories that I don’t want to relive.   
I’m quick to do as he says, because he’s too similar to Bruce for me not to.   
I stare when he slaps Tony in the back of the head, not because i’m trying to make sense of it, or because I don’t like it, but because I can just as easily imagine Bruce flicking Dick in the nose for being an idiot.   
I abruptly snap out my reverie, turning to my locker and deftly spinning the numbers in, pulling out jeans and a tee shirt, wincing when I realise that the shirt I stuffed in my bag this morning is a Batman one I haven’t pulled out of my drawer since I stuffed it in the bottom, but since I haven’t done laundry in weeks, and I was running dangerously low on shirts, I must have just grabbed it along with my jeans and thrown it in my bag this morning.   
With nothing else to wear, I pull on my boxers and jeans, fingering the soft fabric of the shirt before I turn slightly to pull it over my head, although I realise my mistake when I hear a shocked intake of breath from Tony, who is now behind me.   
“Tim?” he says hesitantly   
“What happened to your back?” he asks gently, and I understand the cautiousness, if Tony had turned around and his back was in the state mine is in, I would be shocked too.   
I don’t need to look in a mirror to know what my back looks like, there are burn scars across the expanse of it, and littered in between those are various other scars, from puncture wounds to gashes, and every other scar that had been on my back before that day, is now covered up by these ones.   
“An accident when I was a teenager” I tell him, turning back to my locker and grabbing my bag before closing it and making my way out of the room, quickly rushing down the stairs and to my car.   
I lock the doors when I get there, remembering Jason’s yell as he shoved me out the third story building, my landing being fucked up by the explosion, which blew me into a telephone pole, back first, and I remember laying there, yelling at my body to get the fuck up as fiery debris landed on and around me, burning through my clothes and searing my back, while other pieces simply smashed into me, cutting through the skin that was exposed by the burning debris that continued to fall around me, yet no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t make my body move.   
Someone honks their horn, snapping me out of painful memories, and back to the present, I slowly pull on my seatbelt, start my car and pull out of the parking lot, driving to my apartment.


	2. chapter 2

That night, I toss and turn for hours, and what sleep I do get isn’t peaceful, it’s disrupted my numerous nightmares, all based on the same day, the same few minutes, all of them with the same outcome, and although they’re nightmares, the outcome was the same in real life as it is in my nightmares, my brain doesn’t need to come up with horrid scenarios to keep me awake at night, my previous life took care of that just fine.   
I drag myself from my bed a few minutes before my alarm goes off, same as I have the last few weeks, same as I know I will for the next few weeks as well.   
I jump in another shower, washing the cold sweat from my body as well as letting the water pound into my back, and I simply stand there as the minutes tick down for me to leave, knowing that the most i’ll be able to stomach for breakfast will be either toast, or a protein bar, and protein bar wins out cause’ it gives me another 2 minutes under the stream of water.   
So with 10 minutes left to leave the apartment I drag myself from the shower, deciding to forgo shaving as well for today, even though I know that my stubble is black, like my hair would be if I didn’t dye it.   
So I quickly pop in my colored contacts, refusing to look myself in the eyes before they’re in, and then I throw on another ill fitting suit, grab my keys, my bag, and hurry out the door, digging a protein bar from the bottom of my bag as I wait for the elevator.   
When I get to the office, I avoid looking at either Tony or Gibbs, deciding instead to keep my head down and try and finish my now long overdue paperwork.   
Everything runs smoothly for a few hours, despite being able to feel Tony’s stare on my head the whole time, and I only get up for coffee when he’s in the bathroom, and go to the bathroom while he’s getting coffee, leaving him no opportunities to box me in.   
About an hour before I usually go to lunch, i’m still doing paperwork, when I hear a very familiar voice murmuring something softly to the toddler perched on his hip.   
I stay in my seat and wait as he walks with measured steps to my desk, a sneer placed on his face as he sees my hair and eyes, and I hold back the urge to flinch, knowing how much he despises me covering up the things that make me look like them, look like him.   
“Drake” he greets, drawing the attention of my team as he stops at my desk, calling me by my ‘middle name’   
“Damian, did you decide to settle down?” I ask teasingly, although I already know who’s little girl he’s holding in his arms.   
“I’m babysitting for Crock and West, although why they would trust their offspring with me, I do not know” he says, bouncing the kid slightly on his hip as she starts to fuss. I know exactly why Artemis and Wally left her with him, because even though he denies it, he has the same affinity for connecting with animals as he does babies, younger kids too. Innocence brings out his protective instincts.   
“How’s your back? I know it bothers you this time of year” he asks softly, his blue eyes boring into mine.   
“Nothing I can’t handle, and if I can’t, I can always get more pain pills prescribed” I tell him, stalling, even though we both know why he’s really here.   
“I take it you won’t be coming this year either?” he asks, his voice gaining an edge that wasn’t there before, but one that used to always be present in his words.   
“No, I can-” he cuts me off   
“You haven’t been home in 3 years Drake, you’ve shoved away anyone who knew them, who had some sort of connection with them, besides me, and I don’t know when I had to become the reasonable, responsible one, who can actually deal with his emotions, instead of shoving them down and hoping they go away, but I don’t fucking like it Tim, I don’t.” he growls, and I can tell from the shocked expressions from my team that they weren’t expecting those words from him, or him in general.   
I attempt to glare at him, but I can’t really summon the energy to be upset with him, because I get it, and I side with him more often than I side with me.  
Mary starts to cry, big fat tears rolling down her face as she recognises Damian’s anger, but she’s too young still to know who it’s aimed at, or how to deal with it.   
He looks down, regret flashing in his eyes as he attempts to console the crying child, but they’re both too upset to do much of anything for the other right now.   
I stand up and hold out my arms, giving him the universal sign for ‘gimmie’ and he gladly hands her over, I bring her to my chest and begin swaying back and forth, rubbing slow circles on her back as she slowly calms down, still young enough to have tired herself out after the short crying fit.  
“I’ve missed you, Damian” I tell him, moving around my desk and pulling him into a side hug by the back of his head, so as not to disturb the now calm and sleepy toddler.   
“Maybe you wouldn’t miss me as much if you actually came up to see me every once in a while, instead of leaving me to always make the trip down here.” he says, and although I know he means the words, there isn’t any heat behind them.   
“I can-” I start   
“Do not tell me you can’t, we lived there for 7 years after, after… well, you know” he says, not willing to voice what happened, even though it’s been 10 years.  
“I’m sorry” I say instead, wishing I could see him more, and I know that he wishes he could see me more often too, but he refuses to leave, and I refuse to return.   
“So, how are the McGee’s?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he attempts small talk.   
“Fine, they want me to come out for christmas, keep telling me it looks bad when I never show up for the holidays” I tell him, remembering the look on my ‘adoptive’ mother’s face as she tells me how bad it looks when her adoptive son is never home for the holidays, or at all really.   
“You might be better off there anyway, not like we really have anyone to spend christmas with this year anyway” he mutters.   
“Yeah well, we knew it would happen eventually” I tell him, and it’s the truth.   
Everyone who has been trying to help, and support us since everything happened, they weren’t our friends, the Justice League, Young Justice, they were Dick’s people, Bruce’s people, and even Jason’s people, although, even that isn’t true, because they knew Robin, and Batman, and Red Hood, and even though they knew each other for years, there was always a separation between Batman and Bruce, Dick and Robin, Red Hood and Jason.   
Some were closer than others, Clark and Diana were the closest to Bruce, Batman.   
Wally and Bab’s were the closest to Dick, they’d known his secret identity for years, him and Wally were best friends, and him and Bab’s were engaged.   
And Roy was the closest to Jason, best friends, who ended up almost destroying themselves for the other one.   
Naturally they were the ones who came to help when everything went down, but again, they were our families best friends, partners, not ours, they were close with them, not us.   
So while they all felt responsible for us, they were all bound to drift, at some point or another, no matter how much we didn’t want them to.   
The six of us, Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Jason, Me and Damian, had always had a barrier between us and them, since the beginning, it was us and them, we just hadn’t realised how far that gap was until they were gone, and me and Damian were left with each other, and strained connections to their friends.


	3. chapter 3

I hike the toddler a little higher on my hip, clearing my throat and looking around at my team, who have been casually eavesdropping since Damian walked into the room, although I could care less at the moment.  
I haven’t seen Damian in months, my back is fucking killing me, and in a few days I know i’ll end up a fucking mess, before Damian shows up to be a mess with me, and he’ll stay for awhile while we pull each other together, and then we’ll pretend that it never happened, at least until next year when it’s bound to happen again.   
So I really can’t bring myself to care whether or not my team eavesdrops on a conversation that they won’t be able to make sense of anyway.   
“So, just us for christmas?” I ask, trying to pull myself from my thoughts and into the present.   
“Kent and Kon might drop by, Crock and West are taking the little one and spending it with the Allen’s. Harper is with the Queens, and Diana is working. Just us.” he says, still insistent on calling everyone by their last names, although it could just be habit by now, seeing as Damian has softened considerably since childhood.   
“They might have been there the last few years Damian, but it’s still always been just us, before they were gone, it was still just us, it’s just that most of us, are gone now” I tell him, knowing that it won’t dampen the hurt in his eyes, but needing to say it nonetheless.   
I look down fondly at little Mary as she leans away from me and starts making grabby hands at Damian, who’s gaze softens considerably as he stares down at the small child, I let a soft smile grace my face as I hand her back to him, happy that I got the chance to see her.   
I remember when Wally called me to tell me that it was a little girl, and that him and Artemis had already decided what they wanted to name her, if she had been a he, they had said that they wanted to name him Richard, and for a girl, Mary. Because although they wanted to name their baby after Dick, their fallen best friend and teammate, they weren’t going to name their little girl Richard. Mary was already at the top of their list for names, when Wally finally remembered that Dick’s mom’s name was Mary, which just solidified their decision.   
Wally had spent a lot more time with me and Damian when Artemis got pregnant, he was ecstatic, but there was always an undercurrent of sadness, I didn’t know why until Wally spilled the beans about halfway through her pregnancy.   
Apparently when they first started dating, Dick had somehow gotten promises from both Wally and Artemis, that when they got married and started having kids, that he was going to be their uncle, and godfather to the first one.   
The same sort of melancholy that had hung over him on his wedding day was there when Artemis told him he was going to be a dad.   
Wally had told me that even though he was so fucking happy, to be marrying the girl of his dreams, and then finding out she was pregnant, that he was going to be a dad, he couldn’t help but be sad, because even years later, the one thing he wanted to do most, was tell his best friend.   
Him and Dick had been attached at the hip since they were kids, they had plans for when they were adults, they were going to be the best men at each others weddings, they were going to be uncles and godfathers to each others kids, they even had these plans to live in the same neighborhood and their kids were going to be best friends too, they were inseparable, they were brothers.   
“How long are you keeping her?” I ask with a nod towards Mary, who buried her face into Damian’s neck and promptly fell asleep.   
“Just until tomorrow, West got called into work to help with something, and Crock was away on a business trip, West was supposed to be watching her, but it was an emergency, he had to go in.” Damian says, swaying back and forth as she sleeps.   
“You planning on sticking around?” I ask, wondering if he Zeta’d here, or if he drove, planning on staying for a few days.   
“Can’t, i’ve got a company to run, i’ll be back down in a few days though” he says, and almost without thinking, I reach out and run my hand through his hair, pulling him gently into a hug, taking care not to disturb the toddler.   
Once he’s left I sit back down at my desk, intent on pretending that it never happened, although I wish that my team would do the same.   
“Who the hell was that? And what were you talking about?” Tony asks, looking at me in confusion.   
“Nobody, and none of your business” I tell him, not even looking up from my paperwork.   
“Bullshit” he calls out.   
“No, it’s not bullshit Tony, he is nobody to you, and it is none of your business who he is to me, why he was here, what we were talking about, nothing, we are co-workers, you have no right to my personal life” I snap, knowing that at least some of that isn’t true, because Tony is actually my friend, at least when he isn’t annoying the shit out of me, but Damian is none of their business, and they can be curious all they want, but they don’t actually have any right to my personal life, unless I want them to. With this though, I don’t.   
I watch as Tony snaps his mouth shut, looking down at his desk to mask the flash of hurt I saw in his eyes.   
“I’m sorry, I didn’t, we are friends, but Damian, he’s… He’s not up for discussion” I tell him, apologising.   
“It’s fine man, I get it” Tony says, and usually those words coming out of his mouth would be sarcastic, but right now, they're genuine.   
“Are you going to come out now Abby?” I ask, wondering why she’s continuing to hide around the corner, even though I know she’s been there the whole time, since right before Damian walked in.   
I look up as she pokes her head around the corner, a pout on her lips.   
“How’d you know I was there?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.   
“I saw you poke your head around the corner when Damian walked in” I tell her.   
“Well, that was interesting” she says, nodding to show that she heard me.   
“Yeah, I didn’t know he was dropping by today” I tell her, watching as she walks over and sits on the edge of Tony’s desk.   
“It’s fine” she says softly   
“Yeah Probie, I didn’t even know you had any friends” Tony says, trying to lighten the mood.   
“Ha ha ha” I fake laugh, letting an amused smile fall onto my lips, long enough so that Tony knows i’m not actually annoyed.   
The smile falls off my face as I shift in my chair, trying to find a more comfortable position. My eyebrows furrow as I settle in for another long day doing paperwork.


	4. chapter 4

The next few days pass smoothly enough, although i’m now running on about an hour of sleep a night and the nightmares are getting progressively worse.   
As soon as I step out of my apartment it really hits me, the anniversary is tomorrow, and my chest tightens as I force myself to take a bite out of my protein bar, swallowing through the lump in my throat.   
I arrive to work almost a half hour late, looking like shit and only remembering to put my colored contacts in when I catch a look at myself in the rearview mirror, startling myself so bad I spill my coffee down the front of my shirt.   
So that’s how I arrive to work, late, with coffee down my entire front, smelling of coffee, huge bags underneath my eyes and running on less than an hour of sleep.   
“Wow, you look like shit Tim” Abby blurts when I walk into the bullpen.   
“Yeah, I know, rough night” I tell her, although the truth is, rough ten years, rough life, rough fucking everything.   
“I’m gonna go see if I have a change of clothes” I mutter  
I almost want to laugh when I get to my locker, realising that from years of Alfred burning it into my brain that a proper gentleman should always have a suit pressed and waiting for whatever may occur, that I have exactly that, one of my tailored suits, in a garment bag, hanging in my fucking locker.   
Funny thing is, I don’t remember putting it there.   
I quickly dig through my bag, realising that the change of clothes I usually put there in the morning, isn’t there, not that it’s really a surprise that I forgot to do it, i’ve been forgetting a lot of things recently.   
I let out a short, humorless giggle as I change out of my soiled clothes, the power of a damp washcloth and cologne ridding my body of the scent of coffee.   
I quickly change into the suit, closing my eyes and releasing a shuddering breath at the familiarity of it, and i’m almost tempted to laugh at myself for getting so fucking emotional over a suit, and not one of my favorite ones either.   
I figure if i’m wearing this, i’m wearing all of it, so I deftly fasten the tie around my neck, straightening it without having to look in the mirror.   
I heave a deep breath before I grab my bag and exit the locker room, running a hand through my hair, and for the first time in a long time, wishing it was still black, and my eyes were blue, and I looked like myself, and my father, and my brothers.   
For once, I feel like Damian has, hoping to feel closer to them by keeping the features that made us similar, the hair, the eyes, the confidence.   
Damian has only strived to follow in their footsteps, whereas I tried to run, from anything and everything that had anything to do with them, their friends, jobs, suits, hair color, eye color… home.   
I shake my head of the intruding thoughts before walking around the corner and into the bullpen, I watch as Abby freezes mid sentence, her jaw dropping, which of course causes Ziva and Tony, who she was talking to, to turn around and gape at me.   
“Shit McGee, you weren’t lying when you said you owned a suit that fit” Tony remarks  
“I want to know why you wear what you do to work everyday, if you have suits like that. Fuck Tim, that’s like, an eight thousand dollar suit!” Abby says, looking up at me with thoroughly confused eyes.   
“Hah, yeah, I actually own more suits like this than the ones I usually wear, but, the guy who wore these suits, he’s um, he’s not me anymore” I tell them, although what I want to tell them is that he’s dead, that he died with his family and that he isn’t coming back, but that isn’t entirely the truth either, because more and more, I want to be that guy again. I want to wear my old suits, that fit like a fucking glove, and don’t scratch, or pull, or occasionally fall over my hands. I want to take out the contacts and leave them out. I want to use the bottle of shampoo in my shower, specially designed to remove permanent hair dye.   
More than anything though, I want to go home, even though I know that the only person waiting for me there is Damian, even though I know that the reason I left, and didn’t come back, is because when i’m there, i’m constantly waiting for one of them to come around the corner, for the scent of cookies to hit me when I walk into the kitchen, for the sounds of fighting, or laughing, or, anything, to echo through the house.   
When the smell of smoke hits me, I expect Jason to round the corner, with a snarky comment and his signature fucking smirk. A few years ago saw a guy with a white streak in his hair, almost identical to Jason’s, and I tailed him for 8 miles before I got a look at his face, and I know that even today, if I were to see someone with that same streak, I would do the exact same thing.   
I almost threw up when Abby dragged me to the state fair a few years ago, and made me go with her to watch the aerialists perform, because I couldn’t help but wait with baited breath, couldn’t help but see Dick up there instead, with a gleeful grin on his face, his body flowing with near perfection.   
I can’t stand cookies anymore, because all of them taste like sawdust compared to Alfreds, and I know that he’ll never be around to bake cookies, or send me to bed when I stay up for days at a time, or bandage my injuries, or correct me when i’m being impolite, or mean to Damian.   
My breath still catches whenever I see a dark haired man in a suit, because i’m always expecting Bruce to turn around, the smile he never showed to anyone but us lighting up his face, making the stress lines diminish, the shadows in his eyes lighten and the weight on his shoulders lessen.   
When I hear a man ordering a ginger ale at a party, or a bar, or the occasional ball or gala that i’ve gone to since... everything, I can’t calm the frantic beating of my heart until I see his face, until I reassure myself that it isn’t him standing there, sipping a ginger ale, pretending to be drunk with a Brucie smile plastered to his face.   
There are so many things in a day that remind me of them, and there are some that I can deal with better than others, but when it comes down to the day before the anniversary, I can’t handle much very well, like this suit.   
I look up, shaking intrusive thoughts from my head for the upteenth time this morning, when I realise that i’m seated at my desk, with a pen in my hand and Tony asking me something.   
“So what do you say McGeek?” he asks, and although I know i’ll probably regret this, whenever whatever he’s talking about comes to pass, but i’m too tired to worry about it right now, too tired to hold a decent conversation, where I pay attention, and speak when I need to.   
“Yeah, sounds good” I tell him, plastering a smile on my face and hoping that it’s the right answer for whatever he was asking.   
“Cool” he says, rapping his knuckles on my desk before walking back to his own.   
“Cool” I copy, now knowing for a fact that i’ll be regretting it later, but I can’t gather the energy to give a shit now.


	5. chapter 5

The rest of yesterday and most of today passed by in a blur, although I took today off, knowing that I would have been in no shape to work, and I probably wasn’t yesterday, and I probably won’t be tomorrow.   
I just giggle, taking a long drag from the bottle of whiskey at the side of my bed before messily screwing the top back on and putting it back on the floor, knowing that Damian asked me to wait to get plastered until he got there, but he never said I couldn’t get tipsy, or, a little more than tipsy.   
Turns out Damian didn’t make it to my apartment until I was right on the edge between being drunk and being smashed, which he was annoyed about, but he couldn’t really say anything, especially considering that even in my state, I could tell he was bordering on the verge of drunk and tipsy himself, which only puts him a couple rounds behind me.   
When he did arrive though, he immediately stripped off his suit and changed into a pair of my sweatpants and a tank top, now matching me, and grabbed the overpriced bottle of whiskey from next to my bed, perching on the edge as he takes a gulp, then another, before he screws the top back on and flops back into the mountain of pillows stacked against my headboard, landing so that he was pressed from head to toe into my side, but I didn’t mind.   
About an hour later the sun was going down and me and Damian were both drunk as hell, we had decided to finally drag ourselves from my bed, deciding to give Cards Against Humanity a go, considering it was even more fun to play when drunk.   
When that inevitably devolved, Damian decided on dare or dare, and me acting like the apparently drunk teenager that totally wasn’t, I agreed.   
An hour later i’m wearing a skirt and Damian’s had to drink at least a few tablespoons of hot sauce, it’s now his turn to ask me the question, with the utmost seriousness, and I can tell from the furrowed eyebrows that he’s going to dare me to do something that’s going to completely fuck the good vibe i’ve finally got going.   
“Dare?… or dare?” he asks, completely serious, making me want to giggle, but I suppress the urge, plastering a mask of seriousness on my face as well.   
“Dare” I answer, making him nod his head solemnly.   
“I dare you, to go into your bathroom, and wash that fucking horrible color out of your hair” he tells me, and despite part of me wanting to refuse, the other part is pushing me towards the bathroom with a fiery passion, knowing how much it’s simultaneously killed and freed me to change that signature feature, just as much as my colored contacts have.   
Damian looks at me expectantly, and so I stand, with the help of my coffee table, and make my way to the bathroom, Damian close behind me.   
I hesitate when I catch sight of myself in the mirror, I forgot to put the contacts in today, and the difference it makes in my face is striking, it might not be to someone else, but to me, to Damian, I know that I look dramatically more like a Wayne, like a Bat, like one of them, one of us.   
I quickly pass the mirror, warming up the water in the tub, grabbing the blank shampoo bottle before I kneel before the tub, wetting my hair in the water before I work the shampoo through my hair, and when I struggle to wash it out, Damian stands and turns the removable shower head on, helping me get it out before dropping a towel on my head and plopping back down on the toilet lid.   
I hear the bell ring from under the towel and I slap Damians leg, flapping my hand towards the door, silently telling him to get the door while I attempt to dry my hair.   
It’s only when I hear a few familiar voices that I wonder who would be at my door, especially today, because the only people who I actually converse with here is my team, and anyone else from my past knows damn well to stay away from me and Damian today.   
It’s then that it hits me, my team is here, in my apartment, and Damian just answered the door.   
I shoot up, well, I stumble into a standing position, making my way out of the bathroom while I continue to try and dry my hair.   
It’s difficult to make out who exactly is in my living room on voice alone, and I would use my eyes, but my finger is currently stuck through a hole in my towel and tangled in my hair, thoroughly trapping the towel over my face.   
I smile under the towel when I hear Damian chuckle, I hear his footsteps as he walks over to me, deftly untangling me from the towel and scrubbing it through my hair like my nanny used to do when I was younger, quickly drying it before pulling it off my head and throwing it across the room.   
The smile is still on my lips as I look around my living room, seeing that my whole team is here, except Ducky and Palmer for some reason.   
“Hi” I say, slapping a hand over my mouth as a giggle escapes.   
“What the hell Tim?” Abby asks, walking up to me and running her hand through my hair while she stares into my eyes.   
“Do you wanna know a secret?” I ask her, a smile on my lips despite the awkwardness of the room, because while usually I would also find this an undesirable circumstance, i’m a loose, and generally happy drunk.   
“Sure” she answers.   
I lean down so that I can whisper into her ear “this is what I really look like, I wear green contacts, and I dye my hair” I tell her, and although I did intend to whisper, I know that the whole room heard me.   
“Why?” she asks quietly   
“Why? Because, then I don’t look like them, and if I don’t look like them, then I can look at myself in the mirror. But I got dared, and I can’t back down from a dare, otherwise the game doesn’t work, and then what would we do?” I ask her, grinning before looking over to Damian, who’s sitting in the rolling chair that we dragged into the living room for one of the dares, his knee pulled to his chest and his hand wrapped around the neck of our second, and almost empty bottle of whiskey, staring intently at me and my team.   
I silently make my way over to him, grabbing his hand and hauling him up by it, taking the bottle from his other hand and taking a swig of the burning liquid.   
“They are shitfaced” Tony states, raising his eyebrow at me as I throw my arm over Damian’s shoulders and walk him unsteadily to the couch, dragging him with me as I sit on it, keeping a firm grip on him so that he doesn’t try and escape, which I know he wants to do now that there are more people here to witness this.   
I nod my head towards them and then the couches, waiting for them all to be seated before I look around, doing a headcount to see if everyone really is here, skipping my eyes over Gibbs, not wanting to see a person who reminds me so much of Bruce tonight.  
“Why are you here?” I ask, directing my question towards Tony.   
“Because, I asked you if it was okay if we all hung out at your place today, because nobody else’s house was available, you said it sounded good, here we are” Tony says, looking at me disbelievingly.   
“Would that happen to be yesterday, right after I got to work?” I ask  
“Yeah, why?” he asks   
“I knew that I would regret agreeing to something for you when I wasn’t listening to what you were asking” I tell him, hoping that I can get them to leave, so that me and Damian can continue to pass the time until one of us cracks and we both end up emotional messes.


	6. chapter 6

Gibbs is the one to break the awkward silence.   
“The two of you look remarkably similar” he says, causing my gaze to drift towards him, and I freeze, which gives Damian the opportunity to answer the question.   
“That is typical in brothers, isn’t it? Or, would you be my father? I’ve been meaning to ask that, adoptive brothers, but then you ended up raising me, well, kind of, you technically are still my legal guardian, even though i’m an adult now, but does that still make you my brother? or my father? Legally I mean” Damian says, going off track, although he does tend to do that when drunk, much different from sober Damian, who is now a lot different than kid Damian.   
“Woah woah woah, what?! I thought that the McGee’s were your parents? And I know for a fact that they don’t have any other children” Abby says, looking completely and utterly confused, making me send Damian an annoyed look, although, i’m not all that mad.   
“Technically, the McGee’s are my parents, they adopted me when I was 25” I tell them, not willing to go into detail about my life before then.   
“When you were 25? Why?” Ziva asks, speaking up.   
“Cause’ I wanted to change my name, but actually changing my name would have created some, issues for me, so instead I had a couple legally adopt me, and I took their name” I tell them, not lying.   
“Why did you want to change your name though? And how does Damian fit into this?” Zava asks, confused.   
“Because, I did, and as I told you last time, Damian is none of your concern, he isn’t up for discussion, or debate, or anything. He’s my brother, and that’s all you need to know” I snap, suddenly wishing that I wasn’t as drunk as I am, and that it didn’t take me so damn long to figure out what to say to them, or how to get them out of my apartment without making them suspicious.   
On the bright side though, neither of us are slurring, thanks to years of practice, not of not slurring when we’re drunk, but being coherent and able to relay information under the influence of either drugs, or exhaustion, or any other mind altering substance.   
We had to be able to tell Bruce that we had been drugged by either Scarecrow, or the Joker, or anyone else, and we had to able to get him the information that we had, whether it was what the drug was, or whether or not we needed an antidote or to wait for it to wear off. All of which he could and would find out by himself, but he never wanted anything to happen because it took too long for him to figure it out, or because, anything really, he wanted us to be able to tell him what was happening, to increase chances of survival, decrease chances of serious and or minor injury, and to expedite the time it takes between us being affected and us being healed.  
But it was pretty cool to figure out that it works well for when you’re drunk too, all that training, makes for a pretty coherent and useful drunk.   
“I would like you people to leave now” Damian says, breaking the silence with a matter of fact statement.   
“We already have permission to be here” Tony says smugly, causing Damian to tense slightly.   
“No, you don’t. You asked Drake a question when he wasn’t listening, he told you less than five minutes ago that he regretted agreeing to something that he didn’t know was happening. We are drunk, and will get progressively more drunk as the night goes on, it is the anniversary of my family’s very violent deaths, and I am telling you now, to get the fuck out of my brother’s apartment so that we can continue on as we were. Uninterrupted.” Damian snaps, his temper flaring as he glares at them.   
I watch as everyone watches me, wondering if i’m going to let this person, who is a stranger to them, speak for me. The answer is yes, and I can tell from the looks on their faces that they aren’t very happy about that fact.   
I know that when i’m sober and hungover, I am going to regret tonight, more so than usual, but i’m not sober, or hungover right now, so instead I wait for the door to close behind my team before I bring the bottle to my lips, passing it back to Damian when i’m done.   
A few hours later me and Damian are once again laughing hysterically, drool dripping from our mouths as we play Speak Out, the game where you have to put a hunk of plastic in your mouth and then try and relay phrases to each other.   
So far we are both losing, both laughing, and both considerably more drunk than when my team left.   
We finally quit that game, cleaning our faces off before we collapse almost on top of each other on the floor at the foot of the couch, although to be fair, we had aimed for the couch.   
I start to laugh at our predicament, trying to lever myself up using the coffee table in front of me and the couch behind me, and failing miserably, soon enough Damian is laughing too.   
I’m not sure when the uncontrollable laughter turned into sobs, but tears are streaming down my face and Damian is shaking next to me, his eyes rimmed with red, from the alcohol or the crying, i’m not sure, but all the same I pull him into me, holding him tight as what we’ve been avoiding all night finally catches up, overwhelming me.   
No matter how many years this happens, we always try and avoid it, we get drunk and play games, and we laugh, and every single year, the memories, and the pain that is always the strongest on this date, eventually catch up to us, and the laughing becomes sobbing, the drinking no longer helps to repress the memories, and the games lay forgotten on my floor.   
So I sit there, those few moments playing through my mind on a loop as I hold the only family I have left, the broken child that I had to raise, to care for, and comfort, when we were the only ones left behind.   
Those first few months were awful, I had just turned 18, and I think if I was anyone else, I never would have been granted custody of my baby brother, but I was rich, and convincing, and I knew how to throw my weight around, I had learned from the best after all.   
So I gained custody of him, and Clark, Roy, Diana, and Wally came by as much as they could, but they were grieving too, and they had families to take care of. So most of the time it was me and Damian in that empty house, neither of us were sleeping all that much, but we were spending a lot of time in bed, and it only took us a week to figure out that sleeping in the same bed afforded the other the small amount of comfort needed to sleep for at least a few hours.   
I was in PT for my back, and Damian was dealing with broken ribs.   
Less than a month later Damian insisted on going back to school, and so I enrolled him, driving him every morning to make sure he was actually attending, and even though the both of us hated even entering the kitchen, I made sure that there was edible, homemade food every night.   
I also figured out how to work the contraptions that Alfred called the washing machine, and how to order the groceries that he had delivered every week.   
It didn’t take long before both me and Damian were well enough to begin training again, but it was like a slap to the face every time I entered the Batcave, because beside the glass case that held Jason’s tattered Robin suit that he had died in, were four more cases. One holding the Batsuit that Bruce was wearing, the next one had Alfred’s favorite suit, next to Alfred’s was the Nightwing suit that Dick was wearing, after that was the Red Hood armour, leather jacket, and helmet that Jason had on.   
There was no way for me not to look at those reminders, every single time I entered the Batcave, which was a reminder in and of itself, everything in there was seeped in memories of every single Bat, and there was no way to escape it.   
Over the next seven years me and Damian grew infinitely closer, and it wasn’t long before we were unnaturally protective of each other, a change which didn’t go unnoticed by the Justice League.   
One night, I had gone to the Watchtower to grab a few things that I had left there, when I overheard a meeting between the core members, Clark had brought up the subject of me and Damian, and Diana had asked if it was normal for us to go from one side of the spectrum to the other, going from not being able to stand each other, to becoming overprotective and almost attached at the hip.   
It was Martian Manhunter who answered. He had said that it was actually completely normal, we had a large family, and despite that, our family was incredibly tight knit, and when the majority of us was suddenly and traumatically ripped from us, we, naturally, clung to what we had left, and the only thing we had left was each other.   
He also said that it also would have been normal if we had gone the complete opposite direction, pushing each other away so we would be left to grieve alone, we could have continued disliking each other and lived on opposite sides of the manor, rarely seeing each other and fighting when we did.   
I, for one, am glad that we did grow closer after their deaths, even though Damian still accuses me of never dealing with their deaths, and he still possesses the power to push all my buttons and annoy the shit out of me, we are brothers, more so than we had ever been before, and that’s what made it, easier, having someone there to lean on, to grieve with, someone who you trust, who is going through the same thing you are.


	7. chapter 7

The next morning I open my eyes only to groan and snap them shut again, tucking my head into Damian’s shoulder to block out the light, waking him up in the process. Although he was smart enough to keep his head pressed into my shoulder.   
I go to move and immediately regret falling asleep at an awkward angle, sitting on the hardwood floor of my living room, stuck in between the coffee table and the couch.   
My whole body aches, especially my back, and it takes a fair amount of teamwork for us to get off the floor and into the bedroom, after a short detour to the kitchen to grab painkillers, both for the hangover, and the prescribed painkillers for my back.   
My bedroom thankfully has blackout curtains, that I had kept closed all day yesterday, meaning we could simply flop onto my bed and go back to sleep, with minimal pushing while we got comfortable.   
The next time I wake, Damian is gone, and I pull the blackout curtain away from the window long enough to confirm that it’s almost dark again.   
I find Damian in the kitchen, eating pizza that he must have ordered, seeing as he had refused any and all offers for him to learn how to cook.   
“Hey” I greet, sitting down next to him at the island and grabbing a slice of pizza, feeding the growling monster in my stomach before attempting conversation.   
“Who’s watching Gotham?” I ask  
“Diana offered, said Wonder Woman would be a good fill-in for Batman” Damian answers softly, not wanting to speak too loudly.   
“Yeah, maybe i’ll join you on patrol next time i’m down there” I tell him, causing him to snap his head around to stare at me, grimacing from the pain that no doubt shot through his head at the action.   
“Do you mean that?” he asks, his eyes boring into mine.   
“I don’t, want to keep running. I know you always accuse me of never dealing with their deaths, but I did, I just couldn’t keep dealing with them being gone, but still there. They are in every part of that house, every part of that city, every part of me. It fucking hurt, Damian, to look in the mirror everyday, and see them looking back at me, and I blamed myself, because I should have been able to stop it, or have known about it, or not let Jason push me out that fucking window. I didn’t though, and I just, it hurts, because I can feel their, oppressive presence, but I can’t hug them, or talk to them, or apologise, or see them. I got away, but I never intended to stay away, it just took me a while to remember that.” I tell him, finally spilling what’s been on my mind.   
“Will you come to the Manor for christmas this year?” he asks after a few moments   
“Yeah, and maybe i’ll join you on patrol, it’s been awhile” I tell him, simultaneously looking forward to, and dreading christmas.   
“I’ve missed you there, it’s more, empty and, cold, with just me. It’s, too big.” he says, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes a bite of his pizza.   
“I’m sorry I left you there” I tell him, bumping my shoulder with his.   
“No, I get it. I think, I just take after Father more in that way, I mean, we know what he did after his parent’s death. What happened with us is, definitely different, but I reacted how Father did, I pulled in, stayed in that house, with the memories, and I clung tighter to what made me like them. I became Batman, and everyone assumes that i’m a recluse, seeing as the media hasn’t seen me since high school graduation. I was never mad at you though, for leaving, for changing your hair, and your eyes, because while I wanted to remember them, and I dug myself deeper into that grief for a long time, you distanced yourself from it, tried to get away from what you knew would only pull you deeper, and i’m, not upset that you did, i’m just happy that you didn’t pull away from me, that you are now able to come back and remember them in a way that’s, healing, not hurtful.” he says, and I chuckle.   
“I guess you got something from that Masters in Psychiatry, huh?” I ask, lightening the mood, but I send him a thankful look, making sure he understands how much those words mean to me.   
“I thought you hated the hair and the eyes?” I ask suddenly, grinning over at him.   
“Oh, I do. I understand wanting to cover up what was hurting you, but with that awful color? And green? Really? Green and brown, and suits too big, making you look like a flabby imbecile, when we both know you are neither flabby or an imbecile, no matter how much I told you so when I was a child.” he says, making me laugh, a real, genuine laugh.   
“I honestly don’t know where you thought you were getting calling me flabby back then, I mean, I had an 8% body fat ratio, and none of us were in less than peak condition.” I tell him, laughing.   
“It made you pause, giving me time to hit you with a real insult, one that I knew would hurt you, and it worked” he says, his smile faltering.   
“Yeah, you were a piece of work back then” I tell him, smiling reassuringly, letting him know that I wasn’t still mad at him for his behavior then.   
“I was a pretty angry kid, huh?” he says  
“Yes, you definitely were, although, it wasn’t without cause, and at least you grew up to realise it” I tell him, knowing how much he still feels bad for.   
After they died, he changed.   
He had all of these things that he had regretted saying to them, stuff that he felt was okay to say because they were there, to defend themselves, or insult him back. But once they were gone, he had told me that he wished that they knew how much he had actually cared about them, about what they had done for him.   
“I still, am so angry with myself. They were everything to me, they were the family I had never had before, and I was so angry, and it was so ingrained in me, not to trust anybody, that I lashed out at them, at you. I don’t think they ever really knew how much they meant to me.” he says, looking down at the counter, his pizza forgotten.   
“They did, me and you never got along back then, and I was never sure whether or not you really did care about any of us, but they did. Even Jason, he used to tell me that ‘the little Demon has a heart somewhere, and small as it might seem, it does care about us, all of us’.   
You were Dick’s favorite, he took you under his wing and tried to show you what it was like to have a family, because he believed that you deserved that, and he believed in you, so much, he was so convinced that you were good, that you cared, but that you were just too scared to show it.   
Bruce, you are just like Bruce, because he struggled, he struggled to show people that he cared about them, the only reason that he was like he was when you finally met him, was because of years of Robins teaching him how to be a dad, and you and him had your own learning moments too.   
Neither of you were very good at showing the other that you cared, but he loved you, just as much as he loved us, and he knew, because you were exactly like him when he was younger, that you loved him.  
Alfred would never have done half the things he did if he didn’t believe in you, although I think the reason he was able to have faith in you, was because he was forced to hold onto his faith that Bruce was a good, caring, person for years, while Bruce tried to smother that part of himself. They all knew that you cared, that you loved them, and they all loved you, so please, don’t let yourself believe otherwise.” I tell him, believing every word I tell him, and begging him to believe me.   
“Yeah” he says, and while I understand his reluctance to believe me, it still makes my chest ache thinking about what Damian goes through.   
“Yes, Damian. I wouldn’t lie to you, even if it was for your own good, I wouldn’t lie” I tell him, and he believes me, because I haven’t lied to him yet, but deep down, I know it’s a lie. I would lie to him in a heartbeat if it would spare him the pain I see in his eyes right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to make one thing clear. I don’t think that Tim McGee is flabby, or that his hair and eye color is awful, cause’ that’s how it came off to me re-reading it. But if you think about it from a different perspective, Tim Drake is ripped, and has black hair and blue eyes, and there’s a drastic difference between Tim Drake and Tim McGee. Tim was using the dye and contacts to cover what was making him like Damian, and the rest of their family, which had to hurt Damian, making him dislike the Tim McGee look. That was long, I just wanted to explain my thought process on Damian bashing Tim’s appearance.


	8. Chapter 8

Damian decided to sleep off his hangover in my light shaming apartment, leaving early the next morning.  
I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed, taking a shower to rid myself of the scent of booze, not sweat for once, Damian put a temporary stay on the nightmares, and I know they’ll be back tonight, but I enjoyed the dreamless sleep while it lasted.   
Staring at myself in the mirror, I can’t decide whether or not to put my contacts in and dye my hair, or go into work like this, pitch hair wild and bright blue eyes staring back at me.   
I finally settle on my real hair and eye color, seeing as my team has already seen it, and I miss it, I still hesitate when I see myself in the mirror, but I think it’ll be good for me, I think it’s time.   
The next big decision is whether or not to wear one of my tailored suits, or the too big ones that take up the right side of my closet.   
5 minutes later i’m walking out of my apartment, my too big suit scratching at my neck as I pull a protein bar from my bag, eating on the way down to the lobby.   
I arrive to work on time, for the first time in at least a week, and make up some excuse about a prank being the reason for my hair when the security guard sends me a questioning look.   
I get a few looks on the way up to the bullen, but no one seems to think it too odd a color for me, as I get no questions, although the looks I get when I arrive there almost make me wish I had put the color back in my hair and the contacts back in my eyes.   
Almost.   
“Do you need something?” I ask Tony, seeing as he’s sitting in my chair, at my desk.  
“I don’t like your brother” he states, blunt as always.   
“Yeah, well, tough shit Tony. he’s my brother, and he might have been a bit, abrupt, the other night, but we were drunk, and you were interrupting a long-ish standing tradition.” I tell him, half placating, half annoyed.   
“Tradition? Is that what you call getting drunk in your apartment and playing games?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.   
“Yes, getting drunk on the anniversary of his families deaths, in my apartment to avoid emotionally and physically lashing out at innocent people, and playing games to try and have fun, and forget why we’re getting drunk at my apartment on a seemingly fucking random wednesday in October.” I tell him, now just annoyed.   
He sends me an unreadable look, not saying anything as he stands and goes back over to his desk, letting me sit at my desk.   
A few minutes later I hear Gibbs walking over to my desk, but I don’t look up until he’s standing directly in front of me.   
“You need anything boss?” I ask, looking into eyes that remind me so much of my own.   
“Why would you hide something like this?” he asks, indicating towards my head.   
“I thought I gave a pretty good answer to that the other night” I answer cheekily, my smile falling as I look up into stony eyes, ones that don’t soften at my answer.   
“My hair and eyes reminded, remind, me of certain people, people who aren’t here anymore, and I was trying to escape from reminders of them” I tell him, running a hand self consciously through my hair, Gibbs’s approval meaning more than anyone else’s here, simply because he reminds me of Bruce.   
“Was?” he asks   
“I’m trying to move forward” I tell him truthfully   
He nods before walking back to his desk, pretending like nothing happened.   
The rest of the day passes pretty smoothly, and I know that Gibbs relayed the information he got to the rest of the team, because I wasn’t approached the rest of the day.   
“Hey, I kinda kicked you guys out the other night, you wanna come to my apartment for dinner tonight to make up for it?” I ask them, wanting to mend bruised feelings and let things go back to normal as quickly as possible, especially with how much things have gotten shaken up this last week.   
It turns out no one has any real plans, and I tell them to come around a little later, giving me time to clean up and actually make dinner.   
About halfway through cleaning my apartment, a black figure falls through my window, groaning on impact.   
“Damian?!” I call out, rushing to his side with a wince when I see the bloody armour.   
“I was a little angry, ran into something without proper info, more thugs than I originally thought. A lot more.” he says, reaching up to pull the cowl off his head, dropping his head back onto the floor after he does so.   
“Injuries?” I ask, already going into medic mode.   
“Three broken ribs, two cracked, or maybe bruised, knife slice across my chest, twisted knee and a dislocated shoulder.” he lists off, closing his eyes as he does so.   
“Open your eyes Damian” I tell him, carefully picking him up and taking him to my bathroom.  
“How did you get here?” I ask   
“Zeta” is the strained answer.   
It takes more than an hour to get him patched up and give him a few painkillers, which he refuses, but I make him take, and since he, thankfully, isn’t concussed, I put him in my bed, seeing as I don’t have a guest room, and leave more painkillers and water on the bedside table, reminding myself to come and check his bandages after everyone leaves.   
Speaking of, I card my hand gently through his hair as he drifts off to sleep, quickly leaving the room and closing the door behind me.   
I only have ten minutes until everyone arrives, so I speed clean the apartment and order in italian from a good place around the corner, where there’s a kid that I pay to deliver for me, even though the restaurant doesn’t deliver.   
So by the time everyone arrives, i’m dressed in jeans and a button up, my apartment is clean, the food is a few minutes out, and Damian is sleeping in my room, with strict orders not to leave until I come and get him, which shouldn’t be a problem, considering I have a bathroom attached to my bedroom, and anything else he could need is in there.   
An hour later everyone is laughing at a dumb joke Tony made, has finished eating and has moved onto dessert, when the table suddenly quiet’s.  
I spin around in my seat to see Damian stumble slightly before catching himself, he looks out of it, no doubt from the painkillers, as he ignores everyone and goes into my kitchen, emerging a few moments later with a box of Captain Crunch in his hand as he shuffles back to my room, shirtless and now wearing a pair of my sweatpants, even though he was still wearing the underclothes that he wears with the Batsuit when I put him in my room.   
“Sorry about that, he left this morning, but called me a few minutes after I got back from work to tell me he got mugged and needed me to pick him up” I tell them   
“Is he okay, it looked like he was bleeding” Abby says, a concerned look in her eyes as she looks towards my room.   
“Yeah, he’ll be okay. Three broken ribs, two cracked, a knife slice across his chest, a twisted knee and a dislocated shoulder” I tell them, not able to keep the concern out of my voice, even though I know he’ll be fine and back on the streets in no more than 2 weeks.   
“Jesus, that’s rough” Tony mutters, something akin to concern in his eyes as well, although he’s more intent on hiding it.   
“He’ll be okay” I tell them, quickly moving on to lighter topics.   
An hour later and everyone has left, leaving me feeling less shitty about kicking them out the other night, and ready to collapse into bed.  
I do just that, changing into sweatpants and a tee before telling Damian to move the fuck over so I could go to sleep.   
“I’m injured” he mutters, moving over with a grimace.   
“And i’m tired as hell, also, not sleeping on the couch” I tell him.   
“Fucker” he murmurs as he drifts off again.   
I just chuckle before getting comfortable and promptly passing out.


	9. Chapter 9

6 weeks later 

It’s been a pretty quiet few weeks, Damian stayed with me for another day, letting the painkillers wear off before returning to Gotham, and I was correct in assuming he’d be back on the streets within two weeks.   
Nobody on my team has brought anything up, and they all seem to be simply accepting my hair and eyes, and i’m slowly working myself up to wearing the suits.   
I chew on the end of my pen as I wait anxiously for Gibbs to come back downstairs, waiting for news on whether or not we’ll be following a case to Gotham.   
My vote was no, that we should pass the case on to the team closest, which made the rest of the team look at me like I was crazy, and I understand that, seeing as we’ve been keeping an eye out for this guy for the last 6 months, waiting for him to pop up on our radar so we could take him down.   
Usually we stick to cases in and around D.C, Gotham though, is about a six hour drive from here, and we wouldn’t normally get permission to follow a case this far, but this is a case we’ve been killing ourselves on since the guy disappeared, and Gibbs thinks we can get approval to follow him.   
I don’t want to go to Gotham with my team, they are my present, and hopefully my future, Gotham is my past, Gotham has Batman, and Damian, and the Manor, and memories, so many fucking memories.   
“Go pack, we leave in an hour” Gibbs announces as he walks into the bullpen, a triumphant look on his face.   
I curse under my breath, although I make sure to plaster a neutral mask on my face before I pick my head up, grabbing my bag and walking with everyone else towards the elevators.   
“Why don’t you want to go to Gotham Tim? We’ve been chasing this guy forever” Tony asks, the confusion plain on his face.   
“I grew up in Gotham, it isn’t a nice place” I tell him, and although i’m not lying, i’m not answering the question either.   
“I’ve heard that their crime rates are almost triple what they should be for their location and population.” Abby says.   
“Yeah, they’ve got people to help with that though” I tell her   
“Are you talking about Batman?” she asks, turning to look at me questioningly.  
“Yeah” I answer   
“I’ve been following that since I was a kid, do you remember when he disappeared for like, two years? Everyone thought he was dead” Tony says, causing my chest to tighten, and I squeeze my hands into fists, flinching when I feel my blunt nails pierce the skin there.   
I quickly tune out the conversation, walking away from them and to my car as blood pools in my hands.   
I make the relatively short drive to my apartment and pack some clothes and toiletries, my gun and Ipod, slumping down into my couch when I realise that i’ve still got about half an hour until I have to be back at the office, and it only takes fifteen minutes to get there.   
I pull my phone out of my pocket, wincing when it moves against my palms, and decide to wrap them up before I leave, seeing as everytime I move they start to bleed again.   
I quickly punch in his number, my fingers dialing before I consciously remember the number.   
He answers on the third ring.   
“Wayne” he answers curtly   
“Hey Damian” I greet, and even I can hear the tiredness in my voice.   
“What’s wrong Drake?” he asks, concern now overtaking his voice.  
“Nothing, I just wanted to give you a heads up, me and my team will be staying in Gotham for a while, there’s this guy, we’ve been on his case for at least six months, he popped up in Gotham, and nobody wanted to let the case go to another team, so, yeah.” I tell him, explaining the predicament.   
“Okay, that shouldn’t be a problem, why do you sound like it is?” he asks   
“I don’t want them in Gotham, at least, not with me. I just, coming back to Gotham was going to be me and you, and now my first time going home in three years is going to be with my team, who don’t know anything about my history with the city, and i’m not going to be able to see you either, or join you on patrol, and I just, I don’t want to go to Gotham with them.” I explain, hoping he understands what i’m trying, and failing to say.   
“Okay. You will be fine though Drake. You will come to Gotham with your team, and you will find the man who you’ve been looking for, you will leave, and in a few weeks you will return for Christmas, you will stay at the Manor, and go on patrol with me. Maybe i’ll ‘drop by’ while you are here though.” he says, calming my nerves.   
“Okay” I murmur   
“Okay” he parrots, a note of finality in his voice.   
“Now, i’ve got a company to run, even though it would be easier if I were running it without the imbeciles that we like to call upper management. Assholes” he mutters the last part, annoyance thick in his voice.   
“Thank you Damian” I tell him, hanging up and walking to my bathroom to wash my hands and put a bandage over my hands to prevent them from getting blood everywhere.   
I’m the last one to arrive at the office, and I groan when I realise that we will all be taking the same car, dreading being stuck in a car with Tony for the next six hours.   
“What took you so long McGeek?” he asks, taking my bag from me and throwing it in the trunk, causing me to round the car and pull my Ipod from my bag before putting it back and getting in the car.   
“I fell and cut up my hands” I tell him, holding my hands up for him to see once we’re all in the car.   
“Lemme see” Abby says, grabbing one of my hands and pulling it towards her.   
“I’m fine Abby” I tell her, attempting to pull my hand back, but it would be like arguing with Alfred while I was injured and he was patching me up.   
“No, you don’t nee-” i’m cut off as she peels the bandage up from my palm, revealing the half moon cuts in my palms to the whole car.   
“Those are deep” she mutters, pushing her thumbs into my palm a few inches away from the cuts, causing blood to leak from my hands once more.   
“Those aren’t from falling” Tony says, leaning over her shoulder to look at my hand, making me pull my hand away and tape the bandage back where it was.   
“I’m fine” I mutter, putting my earbuds in and turning to face the window, blasting my music into my ears, hoping to ignore everything happening around me.


	10. Chapter 10

My Ipod lasted until about an hour outside of Gotham, when it’s battery died, leaving me with nothing to do but listen to Tony, which quickly became annoying, it’s like listening to a bored kid on a long road trip, they complain, and babble, and ask question, but you’re tired, and your back hurts from being in a car for too long, and all you want to do is make the child stop, and the worst part is, he isn’t a fucking child.   
There is no cute factor, or the innocent factor, nothing to stop me from snapping at him when he goes off on another tangent about a girl he dated in high school.   
“Shut the fuck up Tony, please, just please, stop talking.” I ask him, softening my tone when I see the surprise register on his face, seeing as he’s basically been talking to himself for hours, and i’m guessing he didn’t know that my Ipod had died, because I left my earbuds in, hoping that if there wasn’t anyone to talk to, he would stop talking.   
“Sorry” he mutters, turning to face the window.   
“So, is there any reason we didn’t take a plane?” I ask Gibbs, who’s sitting in the passenger seat.   
“They didn’t want to pay for tickets” he says, always short and to the point.   
My words get caught in my throat as I catch sight of Gotham over the bridge, the familiar buildings and skyline making me ache for home.   
I straighten in my seat, not able to tear my eyes from the buildings.   
“Are you alright Tim” Ziva asks, looking at me curiously.   
“Yes, it’s just, it’s been awhile since i’ve been back here, it hasn’t changed” I tell her, still staring out the window.   
“How long?” she asks   
“Three years” I answer, my voice tight with emotion.   
“How long did you live here?” Tony asks, as though the question had never occurred to him before.   
“Um, until I was 25” I tell him, finally able to tear my eyes from the skyline   
“Shit, I thought you meant you lived here for a few years, tops” he says, surprised.   
“Nope, I know every back street and shortcut, I know the best restaurants and coffee shops. I know which cops aren’t corrupt, and when not to be in certain parts of the city, I know which people to avoid, and which people to make nice with, if I want to keep my head that is. I know everything about her, and she knows everything about me.” I tell them, revealing more than I had intended, but all things that have the potential to help us with the case.   
A half hour later we’re in Gotham, and my breath catches at everything we pass that holds memories for me, meaning that my i’m basically stuck in a loop of trying to breathe normally, because everything here holds one memory or another, good or bad, they all make my chest ache and my eyes sting.   
My breathing goes shallow when we continue in the direction of the one place I definitely do not want to go with my team, with anyone, someplace I really don’t want to go, period.   
“Where, um, where are we going?” I ask, pulling myself together long enough to ask the question, even though it brings the attention of everyone to me.   
“Warehouse district, 4th and Smith” Ducky says, in that polished british accent, reminding me dully of Alfred.   
“Why?” I breathe out, my eyes going wide.   
“Our source said that he was staying there, there is a burned out building that nobody ever renovated, and apparently any and all squatters are run out within a day of them staying there, same with Stevenson, there might be something there though, Gibbs wants us to check it out before going to check into our hotel.” Tony says, explaining what i’m sure I missed while I was blasting music.   
I simply nod, closing my eyes and using a few calming techniques that Bruce taught me, once my breathing is under control, although i’m still freaking out inside, I open my eyes again.   
Gibbs parks in front of the building, and my breath hitches as i’m assaulted by memories, the smell of smoke burning my lungs and my back twinging in remembered pain.   
It takes me a moment longer to get myself under control this time, although I still manage, and even though everyone is staring at me when I finally exit the car, at least they aren’t staring at me as I fall into a flashback, during which I would most definitely scream and freak every single one of them out.   
Gibbs starts telling everyone what he wants them to do, where he wants them to go as I look up at the building, my eyes are immediately drawn to the window that I was pushed out of, then straying to where I know I landed, and i’m almost tempted to laugh when I see that the telephone pole I crashed into is still cracked and slightly bent from where I made contact.   
“Tim!” I startle when Gibbs barks my name, causing me to straighten, my hands snapping to my sides and my eyes widening as I realise that i’ve reacted how I would if Bruce had barked my name.   
I let my posture slump, my hand go to my pocket and my eyes to fall from Gibbs’s.   
“Yes?” I ask, knowing that i’m going to be in trouble for not listening.   
“The building isn’t structurally sound, so I want us all to stick together, which you would know if you were listening” he says, turning and leading the way into the building which I most definitely don’t want to enter, although I am shocked that that’s all he had to say to me.  
We are all looking through the burned out shell of a building when Tony starts talking again.   
“You know, fun fact about this building. The reason that nobody has ever done anything with it is because Timothy Drake-Wayne bought it years ago.” I straighten when I hear my name, my real name, but relax when he continues.   
“The entire Wayne family was here 10 or 11 years ago, except for the youngest, who was supposedly grounded for fighting at school, anyway, they were here looking at apartments for one of them, supposedly, that part never made sense to me, why bring everyone along to look at apartments?   
Either way, apparently there was a bomb planted by the Joker, who was a criminal who had some kind of fixation on the Wayne’s, and so here they all were, looking at apartments, and the story goes, that Jason Todd-Wayne, the second oldest. Somehow knew about the bomb and pushed his younger brother, Timothy Drake-Wayne, out the third floor window, hoping to save the kid. Just in time too, because the kid was mid-fall when the bomb went off. Everyone was baffled that he survived, 18 years old and he was pushed out a third story window, blown back by the force of the bomb, and then burning debris rained down on top of the kid. The entire family died, except Timothy and Damian, the youngest.” he says, and nothing he is saying is helping with my blurring vision and the breath that I can’t seem to catch.   
“The story doesn’t end there though, Timothy discharged himself from the hospital the day after it happened, and went back to their mansion, a few weeks later he had won custody of Damian, his younger brother, which nobody thought possible, not with his injuries and the fact that they were both grieving kids, but he did it.   
Then he disappeared, nobody ever saw him outside of the Manor after that, a month after it happened, Damian, who was about 13 at the time, went back to school, but once he graduated, same thing, went recluse. Now, jump back to 2 months after this happened, Batman and Robin killed the Joker, now keep in mind, Batman had never killed anyone before, maimed, sure, but never murder. Everyone thinks that he was closer to the Waynes than just benefactor and recipient, which was only solidified when he killed the person who killed most of them.   
A few years ago Damian supposedly took over W.E but runs it from home, and nobody has heard from Timothy since a few weeks after they died, a few sightings of him picking his brother up from school, someone also got a picture of them hugging at his graduation, but that’s the most that anyone’s heard from the last of the Waynes, and Timothy purchased this building, but hasn’t done anything with it since, although there are only a few people willing to squat here, seeing as it’s Batman who runs them out of here.” He finally finishes, and i’m facing the wall, my shoulders slumped and my body shaking as I silently plead for him to stop talking, to stop bringing back the most painful time in my life.   
But he doesn’t, none of them seem to see me in the corner, slowly breaking down as they discuss the story that Tony just told, they don’t see me hyperventilating, my frame shaking like a leaf in the wind, my hands once again digging into the previously not-bleeding half moon marks in my palms, the blood soaking through the bandages as I try to ground myself. They don’t see the memories that i’m trying and failing to hold at bay, they don’t hear the cut-off whimper that escapes my mouth or see the tears streaming down my face.   
But someone does.   
“SHUT UP!” I hear a familiar voice bellow, and it isn’t Damians.


	11. Chapter 11

I turn around, wide eyed, like everyone else on my team, as a red figure drops from the ceiling, a smaller figure beside him.   
“Arsenal” I murmur, in greeting as well as shock.   
He ignores me, instead pushing Lian towards me and away from the guns now pointed his way.   
“Put the guns down” he growls, standing protectively in front of me and Lian, who as soon as he nods at her, sprints towards me.   
“Uncle Tim!” she exclaims, throwing herself into me, hugging me with a passion rivaling Dick’s   
“Hey honey” I murmur, my voice cracking as I hug her close to me, tears continuing to stream down my face, the shaking slowly subsiding as my niece hugs me tightly.   
“Put the guns down” I tell them, looking up at them with wide eyes as they don’t listen to what Roy says.   
“What, why?” Tony asks, annoyed and a lot confused.   
“Because you will have a lot bigger problems on your hands if you even think about shooting either of them” I tell him, slowly gaining control of my body.   
They all slowly comply, looking towards me, concern now radiating off of them as they catch sight of my frazzled appearance, my wet cheeks and still shaking form, the blood that i’ve got dripping from my palms, which i’m holding away from Lian, so as not to get blood on her.   
“What the fuck Tim?” Tony asks, eloquent as always.   
“Nothing, i’m fine, it’s fine” I mutter, looking away from them and locking eyes with Roy, who turns to look at me, his eyes full of concern and disbelief.   
“Leave” he barks towards the rest of the room, and as Gibbs opens his mouth to retort, I hold up my hand, halting his words and nodding, letting them know that it’s alright to leave me with them.   
When they’ve all filed out of the room, Roy makes his way over to where Tony had been standing and pulls his cellphone out from behind a burned bookshelf, the phone is on and had already called Gibbs, meaning that they could have listened to anything that was said, but Roy simply ducks outside, tossing the phone before striding towards me, Lian backing up a few steps as her father approaches.   
“Why are you here Tim? Why did you let them go on like that? You should have seen yourself, you looked like you were going to break any second.” he asks, concern radiating off of him as he drags me into a tight hug, holding on for a moment before he lets go, staying within reaching distance.   
“I just, I thought I would be okay. I didn’t know we were coming here, I didn’t know Tony knew that whole story, I didn’t know what to do. I just, I didn’t know” I tell him softly, tears threatening as I attempt to push them down, not wanting to look weak in front of them.   
“Jesus Tim, you can’t, you can’t let things like that happen, you need to know your limits and just, christ, make something up. Tell them you forgot something in the car, you need to take a piss, anything. We’ve been up in the rafters since you got here, we were waiting for you to do something, but you just stood there and took it. Why?” he asks, and although I know he didn’t mean to upset me with anything he said, he’s too much like Jason to realise when he’s said something that could be construed as bad.   
“I didn’t let them do anything! I was trying to get myself under control, I didn’t fucking know, Roy, I didn’t know that he was going to go off like that, I didn’t know that he even knew that, I didn’t know that we were coming here, that I wouldn’t be able to get myself under control.” I growl, my temper flaring as an alternative outlet to the emotional buildup.   
“I didn’t, I didn’t mean it like that Tim, you know I didn’t mean it like that” he says   
“Damn, I guess me and Jason were a lot more alike than we liked to admit” he mutters under his breath, and I know that he didn’t mean for me to hear it, but I guess he forgot that Bat’s hear everything.   
“You guys were two peas in a pod” I tell him, my chest tightening as pain flashes across his face.  
I sometimes forget the impact that the rest of my family had on the people around them, that the pain is still so raw, not only for me, but for them too, that all these years later, that Roy still calls Jason’s phone sometimes, just to hear the voicemail, which I know, because I set up a system to alert me when someone calls any of their phones, and sometimes it simply slams through me, how much their closest friends still call, whenever they are having a tough time, that they still want to hear their long-gone-friends voices.   
Clark still calls Bruce’s phone when he’s nervous about missions, and he leaves messages, there are thousands of them, of Clark telling Bruce all the things that could go wrong, and how he wishes that he was there with his paranoia and plans.   
When Wally calls Dick’s phone to tell ‘him’ things, that’s how I knew he was going to propose to Artemis, how he calls to ramble and ask what he thinks, or when he calls just to hear Dick’s voice and hangs up.   
When Bab’s calls and talks, about everything. She tells him about Noah, how he’s doing, how he looks more and more like him every day, his blue eyes and black hair showing off his heritage. She tells him when she’s having a bad day, and she asks him what to do when she doesn’t know herself, although she doesn’t ever receive an answer.   
When Roy calls Jason’s phone, asking for advice about what to do with Lian, or telling him about things going on in his life, anything really, that he would talk to Jason about, he talked to his voicemail.   
I know that they all go to their graves, among many other, less close friends, but they can’t hear their voices at their graves, and since me and Damian refused to disconnect their numbers after they died, their voicemails became a secondary place for their closest friends, and us, to feel close to them again.   
“Come on Tim, you shouldn’t be here” Roy says, reaching out to take hold of my arm, gently pulling me along with him, Lian on my other side as they tow me out of the building.   
When we reach the team, who are all waiting in various stages of worry outside the car, Lian takes my hand, seemingly not caring about the blood still dripping as Roy takes a few steps closer to them.   
“You do not come back here with him, if I even think you are going to bring him here, I will show up and personally kick your asses all the way back to where you came from. He is family, and if I find out that he got hurt on your watch, i’ll rip your lungs out through your nose.” Roy threatens, and while usually a threat like that would be taken lightly, coming in a growled voice from Roy, who I know means every word he’s saying, it’s concerning.  
Gibbs straightens, looking like he’s going to face off with Roy, but seemingly thinking better of it as he catches sight of me holding hands with Lian, steps back and nods his head in understanding.   
Roy nods back, striding back towards me. Lian once again let’s go as he approaches, wiping her hand on her pants and stepping to the side, he threads his hand through the back of my hair, looking me in the eyes “Please take care of yourself Timmers” he says, pulling my head to his shoulder in a brief hug before he lets go, giving Lian room to hug me as well, a sad sort of smile on her face as she looks up at me, reaching up and booping me gently on the nose before she takes her father’s hand and follows him into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared.   
The old nickname sends pangs of homesickness through my body as I remember all the times Jason called me Timmers, after he stopped calling me ‘replacement’ that is.   
“What. the. Fuck. Tim?” Tony asks, a question he has uttered more times than I can count.   
“I know a few people in the vigilante game, they are good people though, no matter what anyone else says, they are good people” I tell him, and although I can tell everyone is bursting with questions, I simply get in the car, moving over to the window seat and buckling in, closing my eyes as I rest my overheated forehead against the cool glass.


	12. Chapter 12

“Fucking hell!” Tony exclaims, slamming his hand into the steering wheel as we’re turned away from yet another hotel, and it’s then that I realise what’s happening.   
“We’ve been blacklisted” I announce to the now completely and utterly frustrated car full of people.   
“What?” Gibbs asks, turning in his seat to look at me for the first time since Roy and Lian left.   
“Someone, most likely Penguin, knew we were coming, and i’m guessing that Stevenson has made his way into and up the ladder of Penguins... gang I guess you could call them, meaning that we aren’t going to find any hotel, motel, or Bn’B that will take us.” I tell them, knowing that they are wondering where i’m getting my information.   
At Gibbs’s questioning look, I continue.   
“He runs a lot of the crime in the city, and the territory that he doesn’t control, he has allies in, he must have known we were coming for Stevenson, and if he took a liking to him, and his skills, he would have threatened and or bribed every hotel manager in Gotham not to take us, he might not be able to make us leave, but he can make our stay a living hell. I have an in with W.E, but they won’t take us either, they would rather be fired, than fired at.” I tell them, knowing that not even being the owner of W.E is going to get me a room in one of my hotels, because if he was going to do this, he was going to go all in, not leave holes for us to weasel through.   
“You have an in with W.E, the second biggest company in the States?” Tony asks, apparently not reacting to anything else i’ve just told him.   
“Yes, and S.I has been neck in neck with W.E for years, they only pulled ahead last year because of a mishap with the higher ups at W.E” I tell them, and by a mishap, I mean Damian firing all of them for being greedy assholes, and hiring some of his own people, who he is now finding out, are greedy assholes as well.   
Stark pulled ahead because it took the new people awhile to figure everything out, but even though Damian despises them, we are slowly but surely pulling neck in neck with Stark once more.  
“Alright, I have a few options, but i’m not sure how viable any of them are anymore.” I tell them, getting out of the car and telling Tony to move from the driver seat so I can take us where we need to go. 

I hold my breath, fingers crossed as I hope that my last ditch effort is available, it’s nearing midnight, and I have exhausted almost all of my options, every single one of my safehouses, that were all safe and sound when I left three years ago, are unusable, I called Damian a few hours ago, on my way to the second safehouse, to find that him, and anyone else who had helped him when he needed assistance in Gotham, have used a safehouse while here, seeing as Damian didn’t want them at the mansion.   
So all 13 safehouses that I had left, are now either filled with squatters, are burned to the ground, are falling to the ground, or are actually being rented out to people.   
The last thing I have left is Jason’s primary safehouse, the only one he had secured when he died, the one that i’ve continued paying for, it was a good safehouse, and my last hope.   
I knock, the team waiting behind me, before trying the key, I walk into the apartment, the team filing in behind me, only to groan when I see M’gann walk out of the bedroom, thankfully though, she looks like a normal human, and not Miss Martian.   
“M’gann” I greet, watching as she looks over at me, her brows furrowed, and I have a sinking feeling that she knows how i’m feeling right now.   
“Tim” she greets, kind of spacily   
“Why are you here?” I ask, wondering why the last place I could take my team, has to be currently inhabited.   
“Damian wanted my expertise for a project, but he doesn’t like people staying at the Manor, he told me that I could stay here as long as I was in Gotham, as long as I left it standing. What are you doing here? I wasn’t sure you would ever return to Gotham, it has been three years.” she says, walking closer to me the whole time.   
“A case with my team from NCIS, i’ll be coming back for Christmas though” I tell her, leaning over and embracing her when she gets close enough.   
“I’ve missed you Tim” she murmurs, and while she’s saying that she misses me, I know who she’s really missing right now.   
Dick’s death had hit his team hard, including M’gaan, she knew him since he was 13 years old, he was the baby of their team, no matter the fact that he was slated to become their leader, or the fact that they respected him immensely for his skills and maturity, he was still the baby.   
She had always tried to keep them all safe, and she couldn’t help but be overprotective over their youngest and smallest member, even when he outgrew her, and he became Nightwing, struck out on his own and the team disbanded. I saw it when they all got together to hang out like they used to, they had still treated him like the baby.   
But he’s gone, and it hurt them, it hurt her.   
Just because she wasn’t as close to him, or as close to us as Wally was, and is, doesn’t make her any less affected by his death, and right now, I can see she’s struggling with it, i’m not sure what triggered it, whether it was just being in his city, or seeing Damian, but she’s upset.   
“Are you okay M’gaan?” I ask, pulling away from her and looking into her eyes as they well up with tears.   
“It’s just, this city, this apartment, and Damian, they just, they remind me of him so, so much.” she says, emotion clogging her throat and causing her voice to come out rough.   
“I know, believe me, I know. This fucking city, that I loved, so much, it reminds me of every single one if them, and I can’t escape it, I can’t, get away from it. I was planning on coming here, to spend Christmas with Damian, but I just, I wasn’t prepared to be here, today, or now, I wasn’t ready, and it fucking hurts.” I tell her, remembering how easy it used to be to open up to her, especially because we’re both hurting now.   
“Do you guys want to stay here? I can figure something else out” she says, wiping her eyes and taking a step back from me with a deep breath and a forced smile on her face.   
“No, you stay, I guess i’ll just be staying at the Manor sooner rather than later. You are already here, besides, you don’t really have anywhere else to go in Gotham, do you?” I ask, already knowing the answer.   
“Um, not really?” she says, chuckling softly.   
“Yeah that’s what I thought” I answer.   
“Do you think Damian will let them in the house?” she then asks, indicating at my team, all of whom are still by the doorway, apparently cautious.   
“He won’t mind. He’s been asking me to come back for the last three years, besides, the house, the company, everything, really, is in my name.” I tell her, laughing when she giggles at my joke.   
“Yeah, I don’t think that’ll go over well if you tell him that” she says  
“Nope, that’s why I won’t tell him. Besides, he’ll let me in, it’s my house too” I tell her, knowing that I would never make Damian do something by using the fact that I own the house.


	13. Chapter 13

I say goodbye to M’gaan before leaving the apartment, only one option left.   
The Manor.   
I definitely do not want to bring my team there, but I also can’t kick M’gaan out of the apartment.   
So I slide into the driver seat, waiting for everyone else to get into the car before I set off, driving down familiar streets as I navigate the traffic, moving closer and closer to the edge of Gotham the longer we drive.   
“You, are an unexpected enigma Tim” Abby suddenly pipes up from the back.   
“Huh?” I ask, feigning innocence   
“You were so cut and dry, you were Tim McGee, computer genius, who was bad at the physical aspects of being an agent, you were smart and you grew up with alright parents, in an alright neighborhood, you went to a good college and you became a cop. Your personality made you worth getting to know, but lately, there is a lot more to you than any of us even expected, scars that nobody knew about, an adoption, a brother, you’re friends with vigilantes and you lived in Gotham most of your life. You carry this pain with you, and none of us know why, or who you lost. You apparently owned a lot of apartments and now we are going to a Manor, which your brother apparently doesn’t like people staying in. you know Gotham inside and out, so much so that you refer to it as a her, you know the criminal elements and the vigilante ones. You are not cut and dry Tim McGee, and we all know that that’s not even your given name, but for some reason, we don’t know what your name used to be, or why you changed it, or why you changed it the way you did…. Enigma.” she says, naming off every single thing that has been revealed about me in the last two months.   
“I didn’t want to come here with you, any of you, and before a few months ago, I didn’t want to come here period. You are learning things that I never wanted you to learn, and if i’m not mistaken, you are going to learn a lot more before the end of this case, whether I like it or not, which, in case you didn’t know. I don’t. So yes, maybe i’m an enigma, but none of you were supposed to know that” I tell her, my voice cold and my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles are white and my fingers are starting to go numb.   
Even though Tony reaches forward and smacks me on the chest, I still squeeze my eyes shut as we turn into the driveway, we’ve been driving along the short street to get to the driveway to get to the house while Abby accuses me of being an enigma.   
I press the brake with enough time to stop in front of the gate, next to the intercom with the camera so Damian can see anyone at the gate, my eyes still closed.   
I press the button, buzzing the intercom, hoping that Damian isn’t out on patrol right now.   
“Why do you have a car full of people at our gate Drake?” Damian barks through the intercom a moment later, causing my eyes to open.   
“We were blacklisted by Penguin, somehow, all thirteen of my safe houses were no longer safe, or there for that matter. M’gaan is staying at Jay’s old apartment, and seeing as she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and she’s here to help you with a project, i’m not kicking her out. That leaves the Manor, and believe me Dami, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t the last fucking resort.” I tell him, knowing he has no choice but to let us in.   
He doesn’t answer me, but he does buzz the gate open for me, which i’m thankful for, because if he hadn’t, I would have come in anyway, but Damian not being mad is always a good thing, for the general population.   
I deftly take the familiar twists and turns down the driveway, internally logging all the new security systems that Damian has put into place since i’ve left.   
“Holy shit” Tony says as the Manor comes into view, as cold and empty looking as when I left, although that could just be me projecting my feelings about the Manor after they were gone, because objectively, it’s beautiful, a work of art.   
“This, is where I grew up” I say, opening the car door and getting out, waiting for the rest of the team to get out of the car before I stride to the front doors, stopping myself from looking around at the grounds, knowing it will only bring back memories that I can’t afford to have brought back at this moment.   
I open the front doors, leading the way into the house, looking over to the staircase, only to remember Dick teaching me how to slide down the banister, and how to walk down the stairs on my hands, which we did for a solid two weeks, just because it made Bruce wince, remembering the time that Dick fell down the stairs when he went down on his hands early on in his Robin career, giving himself a concussion and a broken rib.   
I clear my throat as they all take in the Manor, leading the way to the kitchen while I wait for Damian to join us, and I pull some leftover pizza and chinese out of the fridge, chuckling and telling Tony that Damian is a vegetarian when he pouts and asks why there isn’t any meat lovers pizza.   
I turn a few minutes later, watch Damian walk into the kitchen, Brutus the German Shepherd at his side, and Batcat the Maine Coon laying around his neck like a scarf, both of them seemingly content to just be near him.   
I chuckle though as Brutus barks once happily, bounding over to me as soon as he catches sight of me, and I crouch down with a smile on my face to pet the excited dog, not realising how much I had missed Damian’s pets until I saw them again.   
“Hey buddy, how’s it been?” I ask the dog, knowing that he can’t answer me.   
I stand a few minutes later, letting Brutus weave through my legs a few times, like a cat, before he sits down next to me, leaning into me with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.   
Damian approaches then, hugging me and at the same time depositing Batcat around my neck, the cat happily purring into my ear as he rubs the side of his face into my jaw, also excited to see me.   
“They missed you” he tells me, and there isn’t any double meaning behind his words, the pets really did just miss me.   
“I didn’t even realise how much I missed them until now” I tell him, dropping one hand to scratch Brutus behind the ears and doing the same to Batcat, chuckling when Brutus pushes his head further into my hand and Batcat purrs louder.   
“Anyway, we’ll be staying here until we finish up our case, alright?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at Damian.   
“They can have the guest rooms, third floor, east wing” Damian says, giving them the bedrooms furthest from his and mine.   
“There is food in the fridge and anyone caught snooping will be asked to leave immediately” he says, laying down the rules before pivoting and leaving the room, and I sigh knowing he doesn’t like them being here, but then again, neither do I.   
I smile though when I see Jerry the weasel peek his head out from one of the kitchen cabinets, squeaking once before clambering down and past Brutus, who knows better than to try anything with the other animals in the house, and then up my pant leg, and into my pocket, making me smile and stick my hand into my pocket so he can nuzzle my palm.   
“Dude, how many pets does your brother have?” Tony asks, taking a bite of the pizza in front of him.   
“A lot” I answer, not entirely sure how many have come and gone since i’ve been gone.   
After everyone eats we go and grab their bags from the car before I take them all to their rooms, putting everyone next to each other with a bathroom at the end of the hall to avoid confusion.   
With that done, I make my way to the other side of the house, knocking on Damian’s door before walking in, waiting for him to put his book done before I flop down next to him on his bed, shifting around for a moment before turning my head and looking at him.   
“I don’t like it either” I tell him, watching as the defiance in his eyes melts away at my words, and his tense body slowly relaxes, enough so that he doesn’t push me away when I card my hand through his hair, hugging him tightly before I get up.   
“Where are you going?” he asks curiously.  
“Downstairs, I uh, I miss them” I tell him, turning away from him before the first tear falls down my cheek, and its with silent steps that I make my way towards Bruce’s study.


	14. Chapter 14

When I get to Bruce’s study, I stop right outside his door, pausing before I push the door open, and when I do the breath is knocked from me, it looks just like it did when I left, except for a few small differences, which I know stem from Damian using this as his office.   
But the pictures of us are still all over the walls, the books are still there, the armchair that he’d spent so many night reading to us when we woke from nightmares, each of us having a different preference for books, but all wanting the same thing when we had a nightmare. To sit in his lap as he read us a book, our blanket tucked around our shoulders as we lay our heads on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat and the rumble of his voice in his chest.   
I know that all of us have done it, because Alfred had pictures of every single one of us, in almost the exact same position as he read to us late at night, they are in a photo album on the bottom shelf of the bookcase on the right side of the room, exactly where they were 10 years ago, and 3 years ago, and where I know they will be for many years to come.   
I spend a few minutes walking through his study, thumbing the spines of books and looking at the pictures on the walls.   
When i’ve gone through the room twice, I know I can’t procrastinate any longer, and so as I stand in front of the clock, I force my hands to move the hands to the right positions, opening the secret door leading to the cave.   
I take the steps carefully, my heart in my throat and tears stinging my eyes, although I don’t let them fall.   
I close my eyes as I go down the last few steps, not wanting to see what’s waiting for me until i’m ready, although considering I don’t think i’ll ever be ready, I turn to where I know the glass cases are, opening my eyes as I let out the breath I was holding, dragging a considerably shakier one back into my lungs, the tears I had dried when I got to Bruce’s study now starting up again.   
I slowly sink to my knees in front of the cases, my eyes blurring with the tears, which are falling faster and faster as I stare at the suits, the most stark reminders of them.   
It’s then, and only then, that I let myself remember what really happened to my family.   
“Tim! Let’s go, we’re gonna be late” Dick yelled up the stairs   
“You do know that I can look for an apartment by myself, right?” I ask, my eyes widening as I see Jason at the bottom of the stairs, propped against the wall with an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, and I smile as Bruce walks into the room, snatching the cancer stick from between Jason’s lips and sticking it in his pocket, all without even looking at him, simply peering up the stairs at me.   
“Nobody has anything to do today Tim, and you’ve been saying you want to move out for quite a while now, lets go” he encourages, his dad side coming to the forefront.   
“Okay, but like, why is everyone coming?” I ask, still unsure why literally everyone is coming to help me pick an apartment.   
“Bored” Jason says   
“It’ll be fun” Dick pipes up   
“I told you I would help you pick one out” Bruce says   
“And I am here to make sure you purchase an acceptable apartment” Alfred says, a twinkle in his eye.   
“And i’m not coming” Damian says from behind me.   
“You could” Bruce tells him.   
“I’m grounded, if I can’t go anywhere fun, then I am definitely not going anywhere boring” he says, defiance thick in his voice and posture.   
“Alright” is all Bruce says, not giving him much to go off of as he spins around and disappears again.   
We have fun, going to quite a few apartments, yet only finding one or two that were up to everyones standards, we got lunch and ate at the park, laughing when Dick took off to play on the playground of the abandoned park.   
Jason and Bruce were getting along, despite the fact that Bruce keeps stealing Jason’s cigarettes from his mouth and his pocket, although I don’t think Jason’s too mad about that, seeing as he’s still sticking with us, and he seems to enjoy trying to steal them back.   
We get to the last apartment of the day, and it’s an open floor plan, basically an entire floor, it has everything that I would need to live here, and it’s turning out to be the best apartment of the day.   
I’m standing by the open window when I hear it.   
“Get out!” Bruce yells from the couch, Jason is standing behind me and we both turn our heads to see Bruce kneeling on the floor, the top off the ottoman and a blinking red light is the first thing that catches my eye, the next is the C-4 and the rest of the bomb.   
I can see the moment it clicks in Jason’s mind, he turns towards me and I don’t know what he saw that compelled him to do what he did next.   
He grabbed me by the back of my head and shoved me out the window, his other hand landing on my thigh as he propells me out the large window, me yelling at him the entire time, trying to prevent him from getting me out the window.   
I get through one flip, my hand almost making contact with the railing of the balcony a floor down, when I look up to see Jason looking down at me, an utterly terrified and resigned look on his face as he meets my eyes, like he was terrified of what was happening, but knew that it was going to happen. It’s then that a deafening sound overtakes my world, and a blast of heat blows me backwards into a telephone pole, paralysing pain taking over my body as I feel something in my back crack upon impact.   
It’s the impact with the ground though that makes me incapable of getting up, I scream as burning debris rains down onto my back and legs, other pieces simply slamming into my body, cutting, gauging and piercing my skin.   
Wanting, no, needing, to get up and look, some irrational part of me needing to see him, needing to look back towards that window, to see him, even though realistically, I know that he isn’t there anymore.   
I don’t know how long I lay there before I lose consciousness, but the next thing I know i’m laying in the back of an ambulance, the EMT’s standing over me talking quickly and before I know what’s hit me, they’ve injected something into my I.V, making me fall back into the black abyss commonly known as unconsciousness.   
I wake up hours later with a smaller hand slotted into mine, a shaking form huddled in a chair by my bedside.   
“Damian?” I ask quietly, my voice rough.   
“Drake?” he asks, snapping his head up, panic written all over his face.   
“Are they okay?” I ask, dreading his answer, but needing to know all the same.   
“They’re dead Drake, they’re all dead. I thought, I didn’t think it was true when they called me, they have DNA and teeth records, i’ve run the tests myself, they’re gone.” he says, his voice breaking as tears stream down his face, and it’s because his words haven’t quite hit me yet that I can realise that my baby brother has never looked this young, this vulnerable, this broken.   
“What?” I croak, tears streaming down my face before i’ve even processed the words.   
“They’re dead, gone. They aren’t coming back.” he says, even though I heard him perfectly fine the first time, and I would like to never hear it again.   
I check myself out of the hospital the next day, having the League doctor come to the Manor to fix anything that might kill me, and on her recommendation, I go back to the doctor so that they can help me with my back, the burned skin and the damage that was done from the pole and the fall.   
That first year was the worst, it was full of firsts and lasts, of death and grieving, growing closer to certain people and distancing myself from others. It was hell.


	15. Chapter 15

I’m not sure how long I knelt there, but my body was sore when I finally stood again, my back protesting the movement as well as my knees.   
I need to see what’s changed though, so I move slowly, letting my muscles warm up as I move around the cave, stopping for a moment to sit in the Batmobile, the passenger seat, and when I close my eyes, I can almost convince myself that Bruce is sitting next to me, waiting for me to belt myself in before he turns the car on, but when I open my eyes, the spell breaks, and then it’s just me, sitting in a car that feels too cold, too empty.   
I get out of the car, not wanting to feel the empty coldness around me any longer.   
I run my hand over the side of the life size T-Rex, and my fingertips over the giant penny.   
When I make my way to the supercomputer, i’ve been through the entirety of the cave, from the locker room, to the training room, to the med-bay, and I let myself grieve, for my family and for the city that lost its most stoic protectors.   
Gotham fell, it’s slowly regaining the foothold it had before, but when they died, it wasn’t just me and Damian who lost people, it wasn’t just their friends, it was Gotham too.   
When Batman stopped going out, criminals came back in full force, no longer thinking that they needed to hide their deeds, and the League helped with that some, but not enough, it was never going to be enough, because they weren’t Batman, or Nightwing, or Red Hood, Red Robin, or Robin.   
We fought to protect our city because it was exactly that, our city.   
Oliver and Dinah fight for Star City because it’s their city.   
Barry fights for Central City because it’s his city.   
Clark fights for Metropolis because it’s his city.   
Each of us fight for the place that raised us, that made us who we are, and when other heroes tried to fight for our city, it was never enough, because this wasn’t the place that made them them, it isn’t the place that they know like the backs of their hands, it’s not the place that they know, inside and out, it isn’t their city.   
It’s ours, which is why Gotham only regained its foothold after Damian decided to step up as Batman, which I didn’t do, because I felt that my city, betrayed me, it killed the only things that mattered to me in the world, and it cut me deeper than any criminal has before.   
So coming back now, I can see it in a different light, I can see it as my city again, but for a long time, I only saw it as the city that took the boy that she had once molded me into, and broke him.   
I let out a small sound of distress as I log into the supercomputer, realising that Damian hasn’t updated any of the software on here since I left. 

I startle when my watch starts beeping, and it takes me a moment to realise that it’s the alarm I set to wake me up in the morning, that it’s 7:30 in the morning, and that i’ve been updating the systems for hours.   
My back once again screams in protest as I stand from the chair, putting the computer to sleep before I make my way up the stairs and back into Bruce’s study, Damian raises an eyebrow at me as I walk in, the secret door closing behind me.   
“Did you get any sleep?” he asks, and I can hear the concern in his voice.   
“Um, no” I answer, groaning in appreciation when he holds his coffee cup up for me to take, only to laugh as I realise he’s drinking tea.   
“Asshole” I mutter, a smile on my face as I walk out of the study, making my way to the kitchen.   
Once I have my coffee I go upstairs to get everyone, knowing that they probably don’t remember how to get to the kitchen from their rooms.   
I know i’m right when I hear a “they need a fucking map for this place” from Abby as I walk into their hallway, seeing them all standing around in a loose group, all of them looking lost.   
“Come on” I say, nodding my head at them as I take a sip of my coffee, leading the way back to the kitchen with practiced ease.   
“Seriously Tim, how do you know where anything is in this place, it’s massive” Tony says from right behind me as we approach the stairs.   
I turn halfway towards him, perching on the banister as I answer him.   
“I grew up here, I know every nook and cranny, every creepy corner and game room. It’s my home” I tell him, picking my feet up and smiling up at them as I glide down the banister, gaining speed the longer I stay on, until I finally reach the end, and with a perfected movement, I place my mug of coffee down on the side table right before the end of the banister, using my speed to my advantage as I go flying off, landing on my hands, pushing off and going with my momentum, falling effortlessly into a double front flip and landing with a bow, exactly how Dick showed me the first time he decided to teach me how to do that.   
So it’s with a grin that I straighten, ignoring the twinge in my back as I do so, and walk to the side table to pick my mug up, looking smugly up at my team, who are all still gathered at the top of the stairs, jaws dropped and eyes wide.   
“Are you coming?” I ask happily, petting Brutus’s head as he wanders over to me from somewhere in the house.   
They all come down the stairs, nobody following my lead and trying the banister.   
I take them to the kitchen, re-filling my mug when we get there, and telling them that anything in the fridge and cabinets is fair game, except for the Captain Crunch cereal, which Damian would kill for.   
I make myself some toast before I sit down at the table, feeling freer than I have in a long time.   
“Did you sleep at all last night Tim?” Gibbs asks suddenly.   
“Yes” I answer automatically, even though it’s completely false.   
“Really? Because you’re wearing the same clothes you were when you left us in our rooms” Gibbs says, noticing everything, even things I don’t want him to notice.  
“I slept in them” I answer, lying through my teeth, just like I used to to Bruce, because he would start enforcing a bedtime when he thought I wasn’t getting enough sleep, and though he was usually right, I still didn’t like it.   
The difference is, Gibbs doesn’t notice the lie like Bruce always did.   
“He’s lying, he didn’t sleep at all last night” Damian murmurs as he walks into the kitchen, a laptop balanced on his arm, eyes moving as he reads through whatever’s on it.   
I narrow my eyes on him, and he looks up long enough to grin at me, then he looks back at his laptop, walking through the kitchen and grabbing an apple and Jerry the weasel on his way through, putting the apple in his mouth and holding Jerry in his only free hand as he exits the room once more.   
I look over at Gibbs just in time to see him send me a disapproving look.   
“Okay, so maybe I didn’t sleep” I mutter, shoving a mouthful of toast in my mouth to avoid answering any other questions.


	16. Chapter 16

When everyone has eaten breakfast Gibbs ushers us all out the door and to the car, all of them seemingly missing the longing glance I send to the garage, missing my cars and my motorcycle.   
Everyone is quiet for the ride out of the Manor grounds, but I become wary when Tony, who’s driving, pulls off to the side of the road a few miles from the Manor.   
“Tim” Tony starts, turning in his seat to look at me.   
“Tony” I say back, knowing exactly what they are doing.   
“You’re Timothy Drake-Wayne aren’t you?” he asks   
“What makes you say that?” I ask, wanting to know how much they put together.   
“That was Wayne Manor, and your brother is Damian Wayne. You freaked out at the apartment buildings yesterday, especially so when I told the story about how the Waynes died. Tim and Damian, brothers, who live in Wayne Manor, and you want us to believe that you aren’t Timothy Drake-Wayne? We’re cops Tim, we figure things out, that’s literally what we do. Everything that you’ve done, the way you act when we’re here, when you are around your brother, it makes sense Tim” he says, raising an eyebrow.   
“I was kinda hoping you would just, ignore what was happening, although I guess I wouldn’t really like any of you if you were like that…. Do you remember when I told you that there were things that you were going to find out about me? Things that I didn’t want you to figure out? Yeah, this is what I was talking about. It isn’t as, bad, as I thought it would be though.   
You know, I lived there for seven years after they died, and I didn’t want to be there, but Damian did, and I needed to take care of him, do what was best for him. He was only thirteen when they died, and I was the adult, not that anyone actually treated me like one. Which is funny though, cause’ they still gave me custody of my thirteen year old brother.   
So um, I left when he turned twenty, I would have stayed as long as he needed me to, but he knew I wanted out of that house, cause’ everything there reminds them, fucking everything, from the table to the banister and the pictures to the fucking books, everything.   
So I left, I joined NCIS and this team, and I just, it was harder, so much harder to convince myself to go back there, to be assaulted by those memories again, so I didn’t, and the longer I didn’t go back, the easier it was to stay away, and I just, kept doing that, and three years went by, and I just, didn’t go back.   
It’s easier now though, I feel like I can grieve for them, without being suffocated by their memory, and going back there now, it isn’t like living in a continuous loop of grief and self-blame, it’s like going home.” I tell them, knowing what I want to say, what I can say, but still struggling with how to put it into words. Hoping that if they understand why I did what I did, then they wouldn’t be so mad, which is what i’m expecting.   
“You lied to us” Gibbs says   
“No I didn’t, I told you Damian was my brother. I told you I grew up in Gotham. I told you that the McGees adopted me when I was 25 because I wanted to change my name. I told you that I hurt my back in an accident when I was younger. I told you that I owned more suits that fit than that didn’t. I told you that I knew vigilantes. I told you, everything. If you asked a question, I answered it. The only thing i’ve lied about is how much sleep I get.” I tell them, looking around the car at the people who’ve grown so close to me in the past few years, and I hope that i’m not destroying any trust that they still have in me.   
I watch as they take in what I said, I watch as Tony thinks through all my points, a thoughtful look on his face, and I wait with baited breath for someone to say anything.   
“You might not have lied, but you did keep a lot from us” Abby says   
“Yeah well, if you happened to own two multi-billion dollar companies, your adoptive father, grandfather, and two older brothers were killed in an explosion set by the fucking Joker, you were in the spotlight since you were born, and you decided to join NCIS and become a cop, wouldn’t you want to hide a few things? Like, maybe, all of that?” I ask snarkily.   
“Obviously, but we aren’t strangers Tim, we’ve been on the same team for three years, we know almost everything about each other, and you were apparently hiding an entire past, and a convoluted one that” Tony says, coming right back at me.   
“I know, I know, but it’s a bit harder to tell you something like that, 3 years into being a team, 3 years into being friends. ‘Hey guys, guess what? I’ve got a little brother, 2 multi-billion dollar companies, a manor, 13 safehouses, a connection to basically the entire Justice League, Oh, my hair is black, not brown, my eyes are blue, not green, I wear suits a size too big because it makes me look, not like me. I’ve been in martial arts classes since I was 9 years old and I beat out Ziva in the physical and the shooting range. I’m not nearly as helpless as any of you think I am, I’ve been kidnapped more times than I care to keep track of and Oh yeah! Basically my entire family is dead!’ cause that would have gone over so fucking well.” I rant, knowing that it isn’t helping my case, but it’s like they don’t even see how they would have reacted to any of this were it to happen some other way.   
When silence reigns, I speak up again.   
“Can we please go finish up our case now?” I ask, knowing that they are now all processing the new things that I revealed in my rant.   
“Yeah” Tony says quietly, starting the car up and pulling back onto the road, navigating his way back to the city.   
“Did you really score higher than me?” Ziva asks from the back.   
“Yeah, i’m not, incompetent, or slow, or unable to fight, or shoot. I just didn’t want you guys to know that” I tell her.   
“A connection to basically the entire Justice League?” is the question that comes next.   
“Yeah, you all probably know that my father funded Batman? Yeah, well, they were a little closer than that, and a whole lot closer to the Justice League than anyone thought too.” I tell them, knowing i’m coming closer to my actual secret than i’m comfortable being, but being suspicious will only make them dig deeper, and I don’t have the energy to deflect that right now.  
“I only have one more question, and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way. Bruce Wayne, he did not seem all that smart. Nice, definitely, but he didn’t really give off the impression of being the sharpest tool in the box, but, I mean, he did good with his companies, and he adopted three kids, smart kids, so I was just wondering if he was as dumb as he seemed?” Tony asks hesitantly.   
“He was nowhere as dumb as he seemed, and he would probably ground me for revealing this, but that was all an act, we all called it his ‘Brucie’ act, he would paste this dumb smile on his face, and drink ginger ale, pretend to be drunk, and shallow, and dumb. He wasn’t though, he raised us, and he ran his company meticulously, and nobody, but the people who were close to him, knew the real Bruce, everyone only saw what he wanted them to, and he liked it that way, he liked being underestimated, because while his money made him a target, his dumb persona also made people think he was an easy target. But he was nothing like that, not really.” I tell them, remembering all those parties and galas that we went to, and all the times he stated how much he hated going to them.   
“He was good” I mutter under my breath, trying to forget the memories that always invaded my mind, everytime I thought of them, happy, and like they were, it would always turn to that day, that one, stupid fucking day.


	17. Chapter 17

“So, where are we going?” I ask after we’ve made it into Gotham.   
“Hospital, apparently our anonymous source spotted him there a few days ago, getting treated for a gunshot wound, so we are going there to confirm, see if we can get a doctor to confirm him being there” Tony tells me   
“Does anyone else feel like we might be being led around on a wild goose chase?” I ask, seeing as all we have are a few confirmed sightings to go off of right now, and an anonymous source that’s been sending in tips, some of which pan out, some of which don’t.   
“Maybe, but this guy is too important to give up on” Gibb’s says, not even looking back at me to answer.   
“I know that, I was just wondering if maybe we should also be investigating the source as well” I tell him, knowing that he’s pissed at me right now, but this is work, and work and personal are separate things.   
It’s like the difference between being able to work with Batman when me and Bruce had been fighting, we still worked in sync, I still listened to him, he still listened to me, and once the masks were off, and we were back to being Bruce and Tim, we could easily go back to fighting. It was never to interfere with patrol, or cases, or anything Bat related though, because that’s how people get hurt.   
It was something that was drilled into all of us, and sometimes it works to my advantage, but not so much when the person I had been fighting with won’t put aside the personal issues for the sake of working safely and efficiently.   
“Be mad at me all you want, you can scream, rage, and hate all you want. Later. This is a big case, so just shelve it, because I am not going to have the blame for the case going to shit placed on me, because you all are angry with me and can’t put it on the back burner until this is over.” I tell them, my annoyance shining through, because it’s times like this when I miss working with a team that i’ve known, through and through, for years. It’s fights like this that make me miss them, because this is work, so much more work than it was with them.   
Not that they themselves didn’t take a shit ton more work, but this, working neutrally, respectfully, even in the midst of a fight, that was easy, it was something that we all understood, and that none of us wanted to go against.   
These people that i’m trapped in traffic with, they are the people that I chose to let closer than i’ve let anyone else since they died, but it’s not the same. I consider them family, but it’s never going to be the same, not because we aren’t related, not because of anything that any of us have done, but simply because they aren’t them, they aren’t Bruce, or Alfred, or Dick, or Jason, or Damian, although some of them come painfully close.   
“What are you thinking about so hard?” Abby asks softly from next to me, quietly enough that nobody else hears her.  
“You guys, you are so much like them, and yet so different at the same time. It’s what keeps me on my toes.” I tell her, closing my eyes and tipping my head back against the seat.  
A few minutes later Tony finally finds somewhere to park, and I chuckle as I realise we’re at the hospital I was sent to for my back, and the one I spent a year going back to for P.T.   
“What’s funny? Gibbs asks, a deeper scowl on his face than normal.   
“Nothing, this is just where I went for P.T for my back” I tell him truthfully.   
“I didn’t think you did that at a hospital” Tony says, butting into the conversation.   
“You don’t usually, but me and Damian liked the doctor here, he was a physical therapist for a few years before finishing the medical degree he needed to be a surgeon.” I tell them.   
A few minutes later and Gibbs and Tony are talking to the nurse at the front desk, flashing badges and asking to see the doctor who was in the emergency room that night.   
“Tim?” I hear a familiar voice ask from a few feet away.   
“Doc hey, it’s been awhile” I greet, turning to face him.   
“Yeah, it has, how’s the back?” he asks, and I grin back at him.   
“Pretty good, how’s the nose? I ask back, spotting the slight bend in his nose from where Damian broke it years ago.   
“It’s recovered, how is Damian? He was a little, um, angry the last time I saw him” he says, chuckling.   
“He’s, less angry, he mellowed with age” I tell him, chuckling along with him.   
I feel as the team makes their way towards us, knowing that they are now waiting for the doctor who was on call that night to come down to talk to us.   
“Hello, my names Jake” Doc says, greeting my team as they look at him curiously.   
“Gibbs”   
“Tony”   
“Ziva”   
“Abby”   
“Ducky”   
They all introduce, and it’s then that it hits me that this is the first time that we’ve taken Abby and Ducky with us on a case, where they have stayed with us while we do the actual investigating, because usually if we travel we have a police station for them to set up in, or something of that sort.   
I didn’t think Damian would appreciate me leaving Ducky and Abby at the Manor though, hence them coming along.   
“How do you know Tim?” Tony asks after they all introduce themselves.   
“Oh, I did his P.T, which usually isn’t the case, but seeing as I was the only one that passed the tests both him and his little demon brother set…” he trails off   
“Little demon brother?” Abby asks, confusion clear on her face.   
“He was an angry one, he liked me well enough, but the one time Tim fell down during one of our sessions, Damian freaked, broke my nose and probably would have kept going if Tim here didn’t pull him off.” Doc says, waiting for my nod of approval before telling the story.   
“He doesn’t seem like the breaking noses type” Tony says suspiciously.   
“Like I said, he’s mellowed with age” I tell them, pausing when Doc’s pager goes off.   
“Oh, looks like i’m needed… here?” he asks, looking up at the nurse at the front desk.   
“They said they wanted to talk to the doctor who was on rotation in the E.R the other night, that’s you.” The nurse says, barely looking up from the computer as he does so.   
“Oh, are you cops or something?” he then asks, a curious look overtaking his features.   
“NCIS” I tell him, nodding for Gibbs to continue.   
“We are looking for someone, came in the other night with a G.S.W, we were wondering if you might be able to confirm that he was actually here.” Gibbs says as Tony pulls a picture of the guy from his pocket, unfolding it and handing it to Doc.   
“I don’t know, he seems vaguely familiar, but we have a lot of G.S.W’s coming in every night, as well as various other gang related injuries. In case you hadn’t noticed, Gotham is a crime ridden city, higher crime rates, higher rates of violent crime related injuries. A bullet wound is very common, as well as knife wounds, and rape victims. This isn’t a nice place once the sun goes down. Heh, it’s not a very nice place before the sun goes down either.” Doc tells them, and I know from experience that he isn’t exaggerating at all, if anything he’s playing it down.   
“Isn’t that what hospitals usually take care of?” Ziva asks   
“No, believe me, I didn’t always work here, I got transferred. This place is, it’s one of the only good hospitals here, the Wayne foundation donates to keep us afloat, meaning we don’t have to take money from any of the warring gangs, meaning we are neutral territory. We get people from everywhere coming here, we don’t have to turn people away because they aren’t loyal to the right people, or because they got caught up in something they didn’t want to be caught up in. A lot of other hospitals in Gotham are run like that, and people die everyday because of it, but it’s well known that we don’t take anything from anyone, and that we aren’t loyal to any particular gang, or group, everyone can come to us, nobody gets turned away. It’s because of the Wayne’s that we can do that, aside from Batman, they are the saving grace of this godforsaken city.” Doc says, sending me a sideways glance as he calls me and Damian the saving grace of Gotham.   
“Yeah, well, that’s how it’s always been. Thomas and Martha Wayne started it, charities, foundations, pro-bono medical care. They were good people, and when they died, as much as he tried to hide it, my dad was exactly the same. He put everything into the city that took his parents, he believed in this place.” and it took him too. I think bitterly.   
“There are a lot of rich people in Gotham, but they don’t care about Gotham. They are safe, up there in their penthouses and hotels, in their fancy restaurants and clubs, but Bruce, he wanted Gotham to be good, for everyone, not just the people that could afford it.   
We’ve always had more money than we know what to do with, so we invest it in Gotham, we invest it in a better future for the people unfortunate enough to be born here, to be born poor, because it could have just as easily been us, it was one of us.  
Each child that dies in this city because of crime, or neglect, or abuse, is a sign of a broken system, and we’re trying to fix it, but we took a big fucking step backwards when Bruce died.  
Because he believed, more than anyone i’ve met, that it could happen, that this city could be saved, brought up from the filth, and crime, that it’s seeped in for decades. It’s harder to believe that though, when that same city takes everything you love from you, everytime you gain something to hold onto, it rips it from your hands, like as if everyone in this city is destined to be miserable, and how dare you try to different.” I rant, my voice deathly quiet, not wanting to disturb the people in the waiting room, but needing to say what’s been eating away at me for years.


	18. Chapter 18

When we are back in the car there is an oppressive silence, which is quickly becoming awkward.   
“So, what was that?” Abby asks, being the first to speak up since we left Doc, him not being able to give us any actually useful information.   
“Nothing, just a few things i’ve had on my mind for a few years” I tell her, turning back towards the window.   
“A few years?!” she asks, incredulous.   
“Yeah well, I wasn’t exactly going to bring up my blistering desire to let Gotham burn for taking away my family in front of Damian, who’s desire to save Gotham only increased the more loss he was exposed to. And who exactly was I going to talk to after I changed my name and moved to D.C?  
I suppose I could have talked to Wally or Roy or Bab’s, but I just, I didn’t….i’ve put so much into this city, all of us did, and what did it get us, well, i’ll tell you, it got four of us dead and the other two left with only the other to lean on. I’ll even let you in on a little secret, me and Damian fucking hated each other before they died. He wanted me gone just as much as I wanted him gone, and we could shelve it for work and tone it down around everyone else, but we wanted each other out of the fucking picture. Funny how it only took our entire family burning in an explosion for us to realise that we were family too.” I tell them, once again spilling things that I don’t necessarily want spilled.   
“Why didn’t you like each other? Abby asks   
“Damian had some issues, stemming from growing up with his mother. He viewed me, Dick, and Jason as less than, we weren’t biologically Bruce’s kids, and he didn’t want anyone to threaten his place by his father’s side. He took all of that out on me though, cause’ Dick was in Bludhaven, and Jason was either in New York or Gotham, but rarely in the Manor, at least until that last year. Anyway, I wasn’t old enough to move out, so I was stuck with him, and I resented the fact that he thought that we weren’t really Bruce’s kids, just cause’ we didn’t share the same DNA, even though he was really the only parental figure that me and Jason had ever had. Dick grew up in the circus with an amazing mom and dad, he had a family with the people in the circus, and when they were murdered, Bruce took him in. Jason though, Jason’s dad was out of the picture as long as he could remember and his mother was a junkie, leaving him to fend for himself most of the time, and it wasn’t until he tried to steal Bruce’s tires when he was 12 that he ever had a real father figure.   
Now me on the other hand, different story to both of them, my parents were Jack and Janet Drake, previous owners of Drake industries, and rich as fuck. They were never home, and they really shouldn’t have been allowed to have a kid, seeing as the most I saw them was when they paraded me around in front of cameras and their friends. I had nannies who raised me but none that paid a whole lot of attention, seeing as I started sneaking out of the house at eight and nobody noticed.   
When I was thirteen my parents left on another trip, and while they were there, they were murdered. Now I used to live next door to the Manor, and I had seen Jason in school before he had disappeared, I knew of the Wayne’s, had seen them at various Galas and Dick used to play with me at them when I was younger.   
Apparently Bruce knew of me, and seeing as I had no other family to take me in, and no close family friends who wanted to take me in, Bruce did.   
He was the first parental figure that i’d ever had, and I loved him for it.   
Damian was ten when his mother dropped him off at the Manor, she had known that she was pregnant and left back to her home country without telling Bruce, she raised him until he was ten, although raised is a broad term, and then something happened with the people she was staying with, and it wasn’t safe for him anymore.   
He was an angry kid though, and I was happy where I was, with a family for the first time in my life, and then this bratty, spoiled kid comes in, claiming that my family isn’t really my family.   
There were reasons for Damian being the way he was, but that’s his story to tell. Anyway, he changed after they died, although I don’t think it was so much a change as it was him letting down the walls that he had had up to keep himself safe, because he realised that they weren’t really keeping him safe, just distanced from the people that he loved.” I tell them, not feeling guilty about it, seeing as I had already talked with Damian about telling them anything about our past, because it’s just that, our past. I can’t tell one story without telling four more.   
“Do you plan on sharing personal information with your team?” Damian asks, walking into the cave and handing me a cup of coffee as I update the now seriously lacking security and functionality of the computer.   
“Huh?” I ask dumbly, waiting a few seconds for my brain to catch up with the conversation before I answer him.   
“Is that alright with you? I was planning on telling them a little bit about my past, i’m expecting them to put my real identity together soon, and i’ve been working on what to tell them.” I say, turning the chair away from the computers to look at him.   
“I’ve been thinking as well, they aren’t dumb, not in the slightest, you wouldn’t work with them, much less like them if they were. Seeing as you are planning on telling them your past, or at least parts of it, you should tell them everyone’s, not in depth, but knowing who we used to be, it would be useful to the retelling. You can’t very well only tell them your past, not without holes, lots of holes. So it would be in our best interest if you yourself told them about our past, to prevent them from digging too deep, or too far. We may have buried certain things, far enough for nobody to ever find them, but there are other things which can be gleaned from too much digging from certain people.” he says, pretty much giving me permission to tell them about how we all used to be, who we used to be.   
“Are you sure Damian?” I ask, knowing how much he dislikes his previous attitude towards his family being brought up.   
“We can ignore it all we want Drake, but it doesn’t change the fact that that was me, I can try to forget the things I used to do and say, but it will never change the fact that it happened, that I hurt you all, so many times. Please, don’t try to tell me that i’m wrong, because I know that you are not the only person in this family that i’ve made cry, or pushed too far. You are not the only person that i’ve pushed away, or hurt with my words and my actions. I despise that, but I can’t change it, and if it helps to tell them our past. Do it.” he says, eyes boring into mine for moment longer before he silently turns on his heel and makes his way back up into the manor, not without a lingering glance to the glass cases though.


	19. Chapter 19

The rest of the day is spent chasing down leads, which leads absolutely nowhere.   
We are now driving down the driveway, all of us disappointed with how the day went, me more so, considering I got nothing from it, they at least got some information they were looking for.   
I find Damian sitting at the kitchen island when we walk in, still absorbed in his laptop, so as everyone else sits down, I steal the laptop from in front of him, and smile when he just lets me take it, instead pulling Batcat off the chair next to him and putting him on the counter in front of him, laying his head down gently on the massive curled up cat, who immediately starts purring, loud enough for the whole room to hear.   
“I thought I told you to start delegating more of this?” I ask Damian as I look over the reports on the laptop.   
“I don’t like the people I would have to delegate it to” he tells me   
“Yeah, you could always just fire them all and start new, only to find that the qualified people for the jobs are also assholes who you don’t like” I tease, chuckling when he lifts his head from the pillow of fur to glare at me, before laying his head back down.   
“I get it, but Lucius was different. You can always keep looking for someone with the same non-assholish tendencies that he had, but you’ll be hard pressed to find someone as good as him, it’s a fucking shame he retired so early.” I tell him, knowing how much he misses the easy trust that came with letting Lucius run the company, i’m having some of the same issues with Drake Industries.   
“Why don’t you run W.E? I have much better things to do” Damian says teasingly, although I know he wouldn’t mind if I did exactly that.   
“Because i’m running D.I and you took over W.E because both of them were too much once I started working at NCIS. Look Damian, you are stretching yourself too thin trying to do everything, that’s why those positions were invented. Delegate, and keep looking for good people, you probably aren’t going to find another Lucius, but you can find someone good, decent, not an asshole. In the meantime, delegate.” I tell him, knowing that he can’t be getting enough sleep with running basically everything in W.E and being Batman, even on ‘slow’ nights as Batman, he can’t be sleeping enough.   
“Fine” me mutters, the word muffled by the cat fur.   
“Did you order something for dinner?” I ask, knowing that ordering is the extent of his culinary abilities.   
“No, you’re cooking” he says, picking his head up to speak this time.   
“Oh, am I? That’s nice, what am I making?” I ask cheekily, although I had been expecting him to ask me to cook.   
“Shut up” he mutters, rolling his eyes.   
“I miss food Drake, real food” he says deadpan, like as though he has been starving for the better part of two months since i’d last fed him.   
“I offered to teach you how to cook” I remind him.   
“I don’t want to cook, too much effort, time, and waiting. I want you to cook for me, because you happen to be good at it, and I miss real food.” he tells me, picking his head up off the cat for good this time, sliding him off the countertop and into his lap with ease.   
“Get the stuff out for lo-mein, i’m gonna go change” I tell Damian, making my way to my old room before I realise that all my stuff is in the guest room that I claimed.   
I hesitantly make my way into my closet, avoiding looking at the things strewn about my room, knowing they’ll only succeed in making me stay here, looking through everything in my room that reminds me of them, because I happen to have a lot of things that I lifted from all of them in here.   
Once i’m in my closet I realise it isn’t much better, our laundry used to get mixed up, and I have a mix of Dick’s, Jason’s, Damian’s and my clothes in here, not to mention a few of Bruce’s shirts.   
I quickly shed the too big suit and pull on a pair of my jeans and an old JL tee shirt that Dick bought to annoy Bruce, just like all the Batman and Robin shirts and merchandise that he used to buy, and the occasional Nightwing, Red Hood and Red Robin that he had custom made, or found in obscure print shops. Stuff that is still occupying space in his room, as well as mine, Jason’s, Damian’s, and even Bruce’s.   
I’m pretty sure he owned more superhero and vigilante shirts than he did anything else.   
And a lot of them are stashed in my closet, safe from the stealing hands of Bruce and Alfred, who didn’t want to step foot inside my room, what with the clutter and the things everywhere. This one time Bruce told me that literally everything about my room hurts his brain. Alfred quit cleaning my room after about 2 weeks of me moving in.   
Making my room a safe-zone for all things that Dick wanted to keep away from them, and later, when he wasn’t trying to kill me anymore, Jason started keeping things in my room too.   
That’s why I have so much of their stuff in my room, the other stuff of theirs is stuff I lifted when I was bored, wanting to see how long it took them to realise that their stuff was missing.   
Some things they got back in a few days or weeks, some stuff they just let me keep, and other things they didn’t even realise were gone.   
I finger the fabric of the shirt as I make my way out of my room and back down the hall, remembering when Dick came bounding into the Batcave in this shirt, just as he had countless times before, a grin on his face and his chest puffed out to show off the ‘Justice League’ printed across it.   
I remember Bruce threatening to burn it and Dick running away, to where I later found out was my room, stuffing it in beside all the other cheesy shirts he had to hide when he wasn’t wearing them.   
When I make it back to the kitchen I find that the rest of the team must have left around the same time as I did, as they are all sitting back around the kitchen, in less stuffy clothes.   
Damian is standing at the counter, his hands flying as he chops the vegetables i’ll need to cook with, everything else laid out on the counter for me.   
Although Damian never learned how to cook, I did make him help me out in the kitchen, he was always good with knives, and applying that to chopping things that I didn’t want to made the prep fly by way faster.   
So after years of me and Damian working side by side in the kitchen, him assisting and me doing the actual cooking, we work seamlessly together, both moving easily around the other in the space, hot pans and boiling water trading hands and burners with ease, which is why neither of us think anything of it when Damian asks for a different knife, and me, stirring vegetables right next to the knife block, I simply reach out and pull the knife he wants from the block, throwing it over my shoulder for him to catch.   
I only turn when I hear a squeal of surprise, looking to see Abby sitting on the other side of the island than Damian, horror in her eyes as she stares at Damian, who stares back, the knife securely in his hand, like I knew it would be, the other knife in the sink.   
It takes my brain a few seconds to go from cooking to engaging with people before I realise that people don’t do that, throw knives to each other, especially when we both had our backs to each other.   
“Sorry Abby, didn’t mean to scare you” I tell her, playing it off.   
It’s only then that I realise that the quiet conversation that had been taking up the quiet of the room had ceased, and I turn once more, only to see that my entire team is staring at me, incredulous.   
“What. The. Fuck. Tim?” Tony asks for the upteenth time this month.   
“Nothing, it’s just something that we’ve been doing for a long time.” I tell them, knowing they won’t believe me, but hoping they let it go at my answer.   
A few seconds later, no one has said anything, so I turn back to the food, stirring and cutting and moving until the food is ready and the conversation has returned, although Abby is still by herself on the other side of the island from Damian, having previously been enraptured with his fast hands and knife skills.   
“Dinner” I announce, plating the food and carrying dishes to the table, Damian right behind me until all the plates are on the table and everybody is seated.


	20. Chapter 20

The next day goes similarly, except I actually sleep, this time in my old room, knowing that i’d have enough time to let the memories wash over me, so I go through my things, surprising myself with some of the things that I find, and when I finally go to bed, I wake up less than an hour later with a scream on my lips and sweat running down my back.   
A few minutes after being woken by my nightmare Damian walks into my room, a sigh of relief falls from my mouth when he flops down on my bed, and I finally have the courage needed to try and sleep again.   
It works, like it always does, and I sleep peacefully, for the first time since Damian left 6 weeks ago.   
About a year after they died, me and Damian realised that not only did sleeping in the same bed afford us a peaceful night of sleep, but not sleeping in the same room  
guaranteed us nightmares.   
We ended up going to a therapist, and after a few sessions, he told us that although rare for it to happen between people, and if so, platonically, but that the traumatic loss of the people we were closest to, which had made us more protective and close to each other, had also resulted in us making the other one our security blanket of sorts.   
He explained it like when you are a kid, and you have a blanket, or toy that you get attached to, and the more attached you get, and the longer you use it as a security blanket, the harder it is to do without.  
So basically he told us that we were the teddy bear that a little kid needs to sleep, you know the one, the one they throw a fit over and refuse to even try to sleep unless they have it, the one that when they do try to sleep without it they wake up constantly and sleep shittily. Yeah, that one.   
He said that it has happened with people having nightmares, or not being able to sleep without a certain person with them, but that it was usually people in a romantic relationship, not brothers.   
He also said that although rare, it isn’t something catastrophic or hurtful, unless of course we ended up not living together, which we did. He said that the longer we used each other as a security blanket, the harder it would be to sleep without it, the more we used it, the harder it would be when we eventually didn’t live together, or we ended up in a serious relationship.   
We didn’t care though, it was worth it, sleep in the same bed. No nightmares. Sleep alone, nightmares.   
As the therapist said, it wasn’t an issue until I moved away, although my moving away was helpful in the way that it isn’t a necessity anymore, just a preference. I would prefer to sleep without nightmares, so would Damian, but the both of us had lived with nightmares from a young age, and dealing with them again wasn’t horrific, because usually the nightmares weren’t horrific, like they were those first few years.   
Today was pretty much the same as yesterday, we chased down leads, only one of them leading anywhere, and even that was only enough for the boss to let us stay down here, seeing as we now had proof that Stevenson is in Gotham, or was in Gotham yesterday.   
So as we arrive back at the Manor, we are all pretty disappointed at the days progress, and upon seeing that Damian isn’t in the kitchen, but he said that he’d be home when we got back, I decide to take the team on a tour/search for Damian.   
I’ve taken them through most of the Manor by the time we locate him, in a game room with a huge screen, which is currently playing what I know to be my 9th grade film class project.   
The breath is knocked out of my lungs when I hear the voices playing, I remember filming all of this footage, which I had insisted on keeping, even though I only used a portion of it for my project, which was supposed to be a weekend in the life of me and my family.   
I watch as the camera shakes before focussing on Bruce’s scowling face, one eyebrow raised as I beg for him to tell Dick, Jason and Damian to let me film without breaking my camera, which they had done not one, not twice, but four times.   
“Boys, let Tim film, or you’ll be grounded” is all he says, although you can tell he’s amused by the twitch bringing up the corner of his mouth.   
And we all knew he didn’t mean grounded from our friends or devices, he meant grounded from patrol, and none of us wanted to risk that.   
“You can’t ground me anymore” except Jason of course, who always had something snarky to say.   
“Sure” Bruce says, because we all knew that he could always find a way to ground us.   
After a few seconds of fumbling the camera goes black, only for another video to fade in.   
“Dad! Shit, fuck my life. Bruce! Help! Dad!” I scream, running through the house, sliding on floors that don’t have carpets and when I slide under a table, spinning around to face the other way, you can see both Jason and Dick chasing me through the halls, Jason with a scowl and Dick with a sadistic grin.   
“Get the fuck back here replacement!” Jason yells, diving under the table after me, but I use it to my advantage, keeping track of Dick who rounded the table, they think they’ve blocked me in, but I go out the short side, knocking over a stool on my way, and narrowly avoiding Jason’s hand around my ankle.   
“Dad! Dad! Bruce! I need help! Seriously! Please!” I yell down the hall, tearing through the house on my way to the study, Dick’s creepy cackle echoing through the halls as I run.   
When I finally make it into the study, I realise why Bruce wasn’t responding to my yells for help.   
“Morning Stark” I shout on my way over the desk, taking care not to disturb the papers on the desk as I land just shy of Bruce’s chair, scooting behind him and poking my head over one side of the chair and the camera over the other, both my eyes and the camera trained in straining focus on both the door and Tony Stark.   
“Is there a reason you are interrupting my meeting?” Bruce asks, a scolding tone in his voice, but you can’t miss the hint of amusement.   
“Dick and Jason are trying to kill me” I tell him gravely, resting my chin on his shoulder.   
“Ah, well, how about you take a seat and pay attention to this meeting, me and Tony here are discussing a future in green energy” he says, both saving me and punishing me, for what, I do not know.   
“Actually, I think we can finish this up another day Brucie Bear, it seems like you have some things to take care of, and i’ll be in Gotham for a few weeks” Tony says, standing and shaking Bruce’s hand, using it to pull him into a brief hug.   
The two of them had been friends since they were kids, and now they were business rivals, and while they played into that for the public, Tony is actually one of Bruce’s closest friends.   
“Bye Tony” I murmur, silently thanking the man for saving me.   
“See ya kid” he says, pulling me into a brief hug as well before exiting the room, leaving it open for Dick and Jason to enter.   
That’s when the video goes black, because we went into the cave after that, and that was definitely off limits for filming.   
I feel a sort of pained whimper make its way out of my throat, startling Damian, who was so wrapped up in the videos that he hadn’t noticed me standing there.   
“Shit, i’m sorry Tim” he says, clicking pause on the next video, looking up at me with a melancholy sort of look in his eyes.   
“No, it’s okay. Hit play… please” I tell him, my chest tightening at the same time as my heart soars and my eyes sting with unshed tears.


	21. Chapter 21

I walk a few more feet into the room, rounding the couch and sitting down next to Damian.   
“Leave” Damian demands, looking over the edge of the couch and staring my team down until they leave and close the door behind them.   
“Tim” he says, concern flooding his voice as he asks me a silent question.   
“Yes, Damian, please, hit play” I tell him, my gaze still focussed on the screen.   
He nods, turning back to face the screen before hitting play, the next video fading in.   
“Hello, fellow classmates. This camera has successfully reached dinner, meaning you might actually see this.” I say, grinning into the camera and then panning it around the table.   
Jason scowls at the camera, stuffing a breadstick in his mouth and making faces at me, at least until Alfred walks back into the room.   
“Master Jason” he says one eyebrow raised gracefully, his tone scolding.   
Jason blushes, closing his mouth and swallowing the food before offering an apology to Alfred.   
Dick on the other hand grins at the camera, and although everyone who watches this is going to believe that he’s just being sweet, I can see the promise of broken cameras in his eyes, the subtle squinting of his eyes and the tightening of his fingers on his fork giving away his annoyance about it.   
Bruce simply gives the camera a practiced smile, which is faker than the boobs on the last model that he took to a party.   
Damian growls when I point the camera his way, glaring at me and the camera, sliding his finger across his throat as he does so.   
“Don’t be a dick Damian” I tell him, annoyance clear in my voice.   
“You stop being an imbecilic waste of space and we’ll talk.” Damian says, causing me to growl.   
“You little fuck-” i’m interrupted by Bruce.   
“Boys, stop” he says, and although I want to argue, I know that it’ll be easier to comply.   
“And put the camera down for dinner Tim” he says, looking into the camera as he says this.   
“But it’s for school Bruce!” I argue, upset that it’s going to take forever for me to get any usable footage for this project.   
“I know, and we’ll talk about it later, but right now I would like to have dinner with my kids, without a camera.” he says softly.   
I release a quiet sigh before shutting the camera off. 

Almost two hours later me and Damian leave the room, and i’m not at all surprised to find the team waiting outside the door, and I also know that as loud as the videos were, they could hear them, although whether or not they could figure out whose voices belonged to who, I don’t know.   
“Let’s go, i’ll order dinner” I tell them, walking with Damian to the kitchen, pulling my cell phone from my pocket as we go.   
There were countless videos on there, from all of us messing around happily, to all of us fighting, to Jason and Dick chasing me through the house a few more times.   
There were videos of Jason stumbling into the kitchen like a zombie, searching for coffee, of Bruce in sweatpants and a tee-shirt, which he forbade me from putting into the end product. Videos of Dick attack hugging Damian and of us playing on the roof of the Manor, of Bruce reading to Damian after a nightmare, and of Alfred chasing us out of the kitchen when he baked cookies.   
There was a video of Jason trying to teach me, Dick and Damian how to make pancakes, and one of Bruce chasing us through the house after we sneak attacked him with paintball guns, and subsequently a video of Bruce dominating the paintball fight that ensued, where he got the paintball gun, we will never know.   
There were videos of me sleeping, showering, sparring, getting along with Damian, and hugging Bruce, courtesy of Jason stealing my camera.   
A video of motorcycle tag with all of us, including Alfred, which Alfred won, never getting tagged once.   
A video compilation of Tony hugging Bruce and calling him Brucie Bear, which I was very proud of, and a video of what happened when Bruce hacked Jarvis for a day.  
There were a surprising amount of videos of Young Justice and the Justice League in and out of costume.   
All of that video came from about four months of filming, all for me to put together a Vlog about one weekend with my family.   
I did get an A on that project though, and all the girls, and some boys, in my class were up my ass for weeks, trying to get me to introduce them to either Jason or Dick.   
I’m shocked to see that it’s almost midnight when I pull my phone out, dialing our favorite pizza parlor by heart, after i’ve ordered a few pizzas, I sit down in the kitchen, staring dully at a box of kittens which are sitting securely on the counter, a heating pad under half of their box and their small bodies wriggling, small mewls coming from their mouths.   
“Damian?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as he comes up next to me, a soft smile on his face.   
“They were abandoned, I found them on the rooftop of an abandoned building last night, their mother was dead. I couldn’t leave them there. I’ll adopt them out when they are old enough, except this one.” he says, reaching into the box and pulling out the smallest kitten.   
“Why?” I ask, as he holds her out to me, taking her gently and melting when I realise that I could easily fit two of her in my hand.   
“She has a cleft palate, she needs a feeding tube, and it will take her much longer than her siblings to be well enough to be adopted out, she simply requires more work and care than they do.” he says, walking over to his pet cabinet and pulling out the things to bottle feed the kittens, and what i’m guessing is a feeding tube for the one i’m holding.   
“I thought that was something you could see?” I ask, looking down at the kitten.   
“That’s a cleft lip, she wasn’t eating like the others and I took her to the vet early this morning, I didn’t want to take any chances with how young they are. They shouldn’t be away from their mother yet, not even close, but hopefully with the right care they will all be alright. Anyway, cleft palate is the roof of her mouth, and yes, is it pretty common for them to have a cleft lip as well as a cleft palate, or just a cleft lip. Her cleft palate is severe enough that she’ll need to be tube fed and receive more care than the others, but not as severe as it could be.” he says, and I know for a fact he could go on, because he loves animals, I believe more than humans.   
“Are they newborn then? I mean, if she needs to be tube fed, then she wouldn’t have eaten anything before you took them in” I ask   
“Yes, the mother had died shortly before I arrived” he says softly, a sad look flashing across his face before he buries it.   
“Batcat has taken a liking to them, especially this one, I think she knows that she is not like the others.” he says, walking over he begins to feed the other kittens, beckoning the team closer, he hands each of them a bottle, leaving them to feed the healthy kittens.  
He then gathers up the things to feed the kitten i’m holding, placing a towel down on the counter before indicating for me to put her down on it, a few minutes later she’s being fed along with her siblings, and a few minutes after that, she’s back in the box with them, crawling her way into the pile of wriggling kittens and making her way in between a black and white one and a grey one.   
“So, about what happened back there…” Tony trails off, dragging his gaze from the kittens and towards me.   
“It was my 9th grade project, a weekend in the life of me and my family. It took me 4 months to film, and there was a lot of extra video filmed. I forgot that I had kept it, we were never a home video type of family, that project, and the extra video is it. But it’s, it’s us, and it’s good memories of them, and when I was watching it, it wasn’t overpowered by those last few memories I have of them. It was my family, happy, angry, sad, fucked in the head, dysfunctional and still working.” I tell them, turning back to the kittens, meeting Damians eyes briefly, catching sight of the sad look in them before I look away.


	22. Chapter 22

I let my head fall against the window, again, this is the third day that we’re returning to the Manor, with virtually no progress made, and I say virtually, because once again we’ve gotten proof that the fucker is still in Gotham, we just don’t know where, or even where to start looking.   
So I suppose it’s a good thing that I agreed to go out on Patrol with Damian tonight, hopefully Batman and Red Robin will be able to make more progress with the criminals of Gotham than an NCIS team who don’t understand the way that the Gotham underground works.   
Usually that isn’t a problem, in any other city, with any other criminals, it’s basically the same hierarchy, just different names and enemies.   
Gotham though, Gotham is completely different. You have normal criminals, you have Arkham criminals, you have children that don’t have any choice but to be criminals, people who want to be in the game, and those who are forced to be, the ones that live for it, the ones that don’t mind it, and the ones that don’t like it.   
You have magic, Meta’s, crazy people, heroes, and a bunch of other, more normal people mixed in.   
It’s a mess, a carefully constructed mess, one that took a hit when Jason died, because although Bruce didn’t approve of his methods, he did make a huge impact on the criminal aspect of Gotham, by being a part of it, he was able to take control of it, at least some of it.   
I let out a sigh of relief when the car rolls to a stop, and I climb out with my equally dejected team. We have been working literally all day, it’s now nighttime, and Damian already called me and told me that he was going out a little early today to finish up a case of his own before he helps me with mine later tonight.   
My breath catches in my throat though, when I catch sight of a trail of blood leading to the kitchen, and I follow it, my team following behind me, their guns pulled and aimed towards the floor in front of them, clearing rooms as we go.   
“Fucking hell Damian” I exclaim as I catch sight of my little brother leaned against the sink, a small puddle of blood pooling beneath him as he stands there in only his base-layer pants that he wears under the Batsuit, at least having enough sense not to wear the Batsuit in the kitchen.   
He turns slightly and looks towards me at my words, a grimace taking over his face as he pulls a stitch tight, starting in on another, an open bottle of whiskey on the counter next to him.   
I stare down at the deep fucking slice in his stomach, quickly moving on and cataloging other injuries, shallow cuts over his pecs, deep cut on his abdomen, burn, most likely blowtorch, on his bicep, a few small punctures in the junction between his shoulder and his neck, a shallowly bleeding cut on his hairline, which is quickly growing into a lump and bruising. He has a dislocated shoulder and two broken fingers, a missing nail and what seems to be a fractured wrist on the same arm as his dislocated shoulder.   
“Who the fuck tortured you?” I ask angrily, my anger only slightly quelled by the fact that Damian is here, that he was well enough to escape.  
“Penguin set up another bounty, a couple million for me, dead or alive. A few of the smarter ones decided to band together, at first it seemed like an amature attempt, so I let them take me, I was curious. Turns out they had a new type of drug, immobilises the victim, on anyone else it would have lasted for at least 10 hours, for me, only about one. It was enough for them to have some fun with me though. They weren’t expecting me to be able to move for a long time, didn’t even tie me up, fucking amatures, they’re having a nice talk with the Gordon now, either Arkham or Blackgate for them.” Damian says as I walk towards him, taking the needle and thread from his hands and continuing his line, i’m quicker and neater than he is, and it frees his hands up so that he can reach over and take a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle.   
“I’m going to fucking kill him” I mutter as I tie off the last stitch, getting started on the other cuts that are deep enough to need them.   
“No you won’t. Murder was a one time thing” Damian says, and although he says it teasingly, I know he isn’t joking, us killing the Joker was a one time thing, because no matter how much we wanted to honor Bruce’s moral code, the need to avenge our families deaths was more pressing.   
I know that neither of us felt any better after doing it, but we did feel a certain satisfaction in knowing that he wasn’t ever going to hurt somebody again, never going to beat a kid with a crowbar, or torture kids dressed up as Robin on halloween, never going to cut somebody to pieces while he laughs maniacally, never going to make another family feel the agonising pain of realising that a monster stole the person that they loved.   
He’s gone, and he isn’t going to hurt anybody, ever again. So while me and Damian don’t feel better about our family being gone, we do feel better in knowing that he won’t get the chance to hurt anyone else.   
“Next time, don’t let your curiosity get the better of you, okay?” I tell him, looking up to meet his slightly glazed over eyes, making me stop stitching for a moment so that I can pull the bottle from his hands, holding it out over my shoulder, waiting a few moments for someone to take it.   
I continue stitching when I feel the bottle being pulled from my hand, knowing that a few more things are going to be revealed tonight, but deciding to put it off until Damian is all patched up.   
“Hey, my kittens need food. You, go into that cabinet and pull out the bottles and the formula” Damian says, pointing over my shoulder to someone, making me growl and push his arm back to his side, it’s much harder to stitch over someone’s ribs when they are moving and pulling the skin.   
“Stop moving” I growl, pausing in my movement to reprimand him, only to be met with pain blurred eyes and an almost dazed smile on his face.   
“Are there still drugs in your system Damian?” I ask then, knowing that he usually doesn’t have this kind of issue with pain, but he seems loopy, like he’s hopped up on morphine or something.   
“Yeah, they injected me with a cocktail of drugs when I started to move, they didn’t have anymore of the new stuff, but it was supposed to knock me out. I analysed a sample of my blood before I started stitching, none of the drugs they gave me are harmful. I’m just high.” he tells me, and I realise then that it was probably a cocktail of drugs that we have an immunity built up for, which is why I didn’t realise he was high when I first came in, or when I started stitching him up.   
“And you thought drinking would be a good idea?” I ask, shuffling closer to him as he starts to lean too far to one side.   
“I couldn’t find the shit that doesn’t sting to clean out my wounds, so I used my whiskey, and then it hurt, so I drank some.” he tells me, straightening himself up again.   
“Great” I mutter, finishing up on another cut, then onto to find another deserving of stitches, and I quickly tune out the directions that Damian is giving my team, making sure that they all properly feed the kittens.


	23. Chapter 23

A few minutes later I have stitched all of his deep cuts, and have now moved onto the next most pressing issue, the shoulder.   
“Brace” I tell him, and he moves into the right position so that I can pop his shoulder back into place properly, which makes him let out a hiss through his teeth, clenching his teeth together to prevent himself from crying out.   
“Done” I mutter, pulling him back so that he’s once again leaned against the sink, bringing my hands down around his wrist to see if it’s fractured, it is.   
I look over the rest of the bruises, burns, and cuts, and then nod, grabbing one of his legs underneath his thigh and lifting at the same time as I wedge my other hand under the arm with the burn on it, lifting from there as well, and with no help from him, get him sitting on the counter, leaning against the cabinet behind him and gripping the edge to keep from sliding off.   
“I’ll be right back” I tell him, patting his cheek to remind him to stay awake while i’m gone, which he sluggishly tries to push away.   
I silently move to Bruce’s study, making sure no one from the team is following me before I move the clock hands, making my way down into the Batcave, quickly striding to the Medbay and collecting everything i’ll need to fix Damian up before making my way back into his study, at the same time as Gibb’s walks in.   
I freeze, my hands full of medical equipment that we don’t keep upstairs anymore, the secret door to the Batcave open behind me.   
“Later” I tell him, moving so that the door slides shut, striding past him and back into the kitchen, rolling my eyes when I see Damian testing how far down the counter he can slide before having to pull himself back up, his stitches pulling and straining to hold, while his still open wounds bleed more profusely.   
“Stop it Damian” I bark, watching as he straightens immediately at my tone, his head snapping towards me with an impish grin on his face, reminding me of Dick.   
Honestly though, Damian always reminds me of Dick when he’s high, whether it’s pain meds after he’s been injured, or when he accidentally gets drugged by someone while he’s working, add alcohol to the mix and it’s unmistakable.   
I put down the supplies on the counter next to him, looking over at my team, only to see Tony with two bottles in his hand instead of the one he had, but I quickly re-focus on my task.   
I fit the brace over Damian’s hand, reminding myself to call Doc Thompkins once everything settles a bit, just to get her to look Damian over and confirm that he’s really gonna be okay, that he didn’t break his wrist and that the burn on his bicep will heal properly.   
For now though I simply start bandaging wounds not deep enough for stitches, but not shallow enough to leave alone. Working my way across the many cuts and lacerations on his torso.   
By the time i’m done Damian has tried to get off of the counter a total of three times, take his brace off twice and scoot along the counter to go see his kittens six times, although now he is sitting comfortably with Batcat next to him, nestled into his leg and keeping him where he needs to be while I apply the last bandage.   
“Fucking done” I mutter, quickly scanning his body for anything that I might have missed.   
“Fucking done” he parrots, a short giggle escaping his mouth.   
“Yeah, you are going to sleep now” I tell him, pulling him gently from the counter and catching him when he stumbles forward.   
I turn to my team, who have just finished feeding the kittens, and at Damian’s instruction, cleaned the bottles and set them aside for their next feeding, which is in two hours, which I will be coming down here for, seeing as Damian is injured.   
“We can talk about this in the morning, there is food in the fridge. He needs to get to bed, and nightmares are almost a certainty when he’s been tortured.” I tell them, adding the last part when it looks like they are going to argue, even though it’s a lie.   
I take Damian up to my room, knowing that i’ll be wanting to keep an eye on him when I get back, once he’s settled and sleeping, I wait a few more minutes with him, carding my hand through his hair as he sleeps, feeling the tight ball of panic that’s gripped my chest since I saw the blood on the floor slowly loosen, knowing that he’s going to be okay.   
When i’m sure that my team has gone to bed, I make my way back down the stairs, into the Batcave and over to the locker room, even though it’s been years, it still takes me less than a minute to get my suit on, my mask fitted comfortably over my eyes.   
I look around the empty cave once more before I make my way to my R-Cycle, grinning when I realise that Damian has put just as much time into upkeep on my R-Cycle as he has our other vehicles.   
So it’s with anger coursing through me, and a grin on my face that I tear out of the Batcave and onto the road, making my way into the city quickly, and pulling up around the back of Penguins club less than twenty minutes later.   
I silently make my way onto the roof of his club, easily finding an open window, scanning for security measures before I slide in, knocking the guard out before I slip silently into Penguins office, grinning at the shocked look on his face.   
“Miss me?” I question, watching as he hauls his considerable girth to standing, discarding his overindulgent dinner and scowling at me.   
“What are you doing here?” he asks angrily.   
“Wrong answer” I growl, launching myself at him and knocking him to the ground before landing a few well placed hits, relishing in the sound of him gasping for breath before I pull back, watching the blood trickle over his lips and down his chin as I gracefully slide to my feet, placing my boot against his throat before I speak again.   
“If the bounty for Batman isn’t dropped within the next hour, i’ll be re-introducing you to the Joker, understood?” I growl into his face, putting pressure down on his neck as he nods frantically, trying to push my foot off of his throat, earning him a broken arm and a sore throat.   
After that I silently leave the way I came in, climbing aboard my R-Cycle once more and instead of going back to the Manor, I make my way to the police precinct, dropping a note in an open window before going to wait on the roof, knowing that he’ll be up to meet me when he finds the note.   
“Red Robin?” Jim asks as he walks out onto the roof a few minutes later, the two cups of coffee in his hand making my stomach clench as I remember watching this scene so many times before, except Batman was with me, and the coffee was for him.   
“Penguin set up a bounty for Batman, there was a new drug involved, a paralytic, but he could still feel it. Said he left them gift wrapped for you.” I tell him getting right to business to avoid the emotions that this meeting brings up.   
“Did they torture him?” he asks, concern in his voice.   
“Yes” I answer   
“Tell your brother that I don’t want to see him until he’s better, we can take care of Gotham while he heals” he says, handing the cup of coffee to me, making my breath catch in my throat.   
“I will” I mutter, waiting for him to get his thoughts in order as I do the same for mine.   
Gordon had us figured out a long time ago, it was always just something that was never talked about, and we were all fine with that. Gordon showed up at their funerals, knowing everything that they did for this city, in and out of costume.   
He wasn’t surprised when Damian took over as Batman, and he wasn’t surprised when I didn’t. Him and Bruce had been close, and I know that they didn’t always just talk about cases up here. They talked about their kids, dad stuff, they talked about how to fix Gotham and they obviously talked about cases, but when they all died, I saw how much it hit Jim.   
He always had this sad look in his eyes when one of us showed up on the rooftop, and he always had two cups of coffee in his hands.   
“The drug hasn’t hit anywhere yet, apparently one of them was the one to invent it. I’ll get you a sample when we figure out where he was working from.” Jim says, taking a sip of his coffee and looking out over the city.   
“Thank you” I tell him, finishing my coffee before placing the mug on the brick wall-railing before I simply disappear, staying in the shadows long enough to see the smile that spreads across Jim’s face as he realises that i’m gone.   
It’s only then that I make my way back towards the Manor, changing out of my suit and showering before I make my way back to the kitchen, bottle feeding the healthy kittens, and tube feeding the one with the cleft palate, just how Damian showed me. Then I make my way to my room, not running into anyone on my way there, and slipping in the bed beside Damian, a satisfied look on my face as I drift off into oblivion.


	24. Chapter 24

I wake up two hours later to feed the kittens again, and two hours after that, and two hours after that, the next time I get up to feed them though, I know that my team will be waiting for me in the kitchen, so I slip on a pair of sweatpants and a tank-top and make my way down the stairs, sliding down the banister, although it only improves my mood slightly.   
“Morning” I greet, seeing my team sitting at the table in more comfortable clothes than the last few days, knowing that there will be a lot of explaining, and not a lot of working being done today.   
I silently get to work setting up the bottles for the kittens, smiling when most of the team walks over to help feed them once the bottles are made, making the process a whole lot quicker than it has been the last three times i’ve fed them by myself.   
“Thanks” I mutter as I settle the runt down on a towel.   
Damian stumbles down the stairs about halfway through feeding time, one hand pressed gently to his stomach and the other pinching the bridge of his nose, no doubt trying to fend off a headache.   
I’m still feeding the little runt, so I simply reach up with my free hand, pulling a bottle of prescription strength painkillers from the cabinet and tossing it towards Damian, making sure I aim low so he doesn’t pull his stitches reaching up to grab the bottle.   
“Take two. Breakfast is on the stove” I tell him, nodding towards the eggs sitting in a pan on the stove, still warm, pancakes on a plate next to them and the bacon next to those.   
“Remind me not to get drugged again” he says quietly, popping two pills in his mouth and grabbing a plate from the cabinet, getting his breakfast and then sitting at the table next to Gibbs.   
“That’s what you said last time you got drugged, it didn’t seem to help” I retort, remembering him groaning about how much he dislikes being drugged.   
He just grunts, swiping a hand through his hair and pushing it off his face, wincing as his hand brushes across the cut on his hairline.   
“Please be careful, I called Doc Thompkins about an hour ago, she said she could come down to check you out later today” I tell him, knowing that he’ll tell me he’s fine.   
“Seriously? I’m fine, no major injuries. Why’d you call her?” he asks, turning to stare up at me, a piece of bacon in his hand and a questioning look on his face.   
“Burns always get checked out, I want her to confirm that your wrist is fractured, not broken, and that the drug is really out of your system. It’s just a checkup, she’ll be gone within an hour and you can go back to pretending that you’re absolutely fine.” I tell him, my tone leaving no room for argument.   
But he gives one anyway.   
“Like you don’t skip all that and just pretend you’re fine when you get injured” he says grumpily.  
“Yeah, well, I don’t have a me to make me go to the doctor, so…” I trail off, knowing that while my argument is solid, not to mention that i’ve been his guardian and the person in charge of him for the last 10 years, I also know that my words will only serve to make both of us remember the people we lost, the people that used to force me to see the doctor when I was injured.   
“Just because they aren’t here anymore doesn’t mean that you get to neglect your safety and health. It actually means the exact fucking opposite, because they aren’t here to make you go to the doctor, or eat, or drink more than coffee, or sleep. That means that you have to, because you moved away, and I can’t make you do it, so you need to make yourself do it, because you are the only fucking person I have left. So don’t try and tell me that just because they aren’t here, you don’t have to take care of yourself. You need to take care of yourself, because I don’t have anyone to fall back on if you’re gone too.” he says, standing up from his chair and leaning into the other side of the island from me.   
I pause in our argument to take the tube out of the kittens mouth and put her back with her siblings, then I turn to finish what’s been started, ignoring the looks i’m getting from my team.   
“If anyone is going to leave, it’s you Damian. Every fucking night you go out there, and put your life at risk. Every. Fucking. Night. I go to bed wondering if this is the night that somebody is going to call me to tell me that you’re gone too.   
So you don’t get to lecture me about taking care of myself, because you put everything on the line, everyday.   
Don’t get me wrong, I understand it, I do, I was driven by that same urge for years, and it took me losing everything to realise that it wasn’t worth it anymore, the adrenaline rush, the feeling that you get when you save someone, everything about it is fucking addictive.   
And don’t even get me started on the need to save this place, the place that shaped all of us into the people that we are, it’s what drove all of us…. I don’t have that drive anymore, that love for Gotham? I can’t find it, I might not hate it, like I did when they first died, but I can’t love it either. I can’t find it worth saving.   
It took things from me before them, things that made me want to fight harder for this city, and I saw things, that made it so hard to turn away, impossible actually, before they died.   
But then I did, because when this fucking city took everything, that was my breaking point. The end of me putting my life on the line for a place that I couldn’t believe in, and you still can, but we are different, and I admire you, because you held onto that belief, that love for a city that took everything we loved.   
The point is, Damian. You can’t lecture me about putting my safety and health on the line, when you do it every day, but I also can’t lecture you about doing that, because I did it for years, and I understand everything that drives you towards this life, every addictive moment, I get it. I am also allowed to worry about you, to call the doctor when you get hurt, and mother hen you to death, because i’m the only one left to do it.” I rant, knowing that I go off topic on some things, but making sure I reign it in to make my point.   
“Now, last night. There are things that I need to explain to them, the only question is, how much are you willing to let them know?” I ask him, knowing that every single eye is on the two of us, and that they don’t like the turn this conversation has made.   
“How much are you thinking of telling them?” he asks, moving back to sit in his chair, picking up his fork and shoving a half a pancake in his mouth.   
“Everything. Gibbs saw the entrance last night, they’ve heard things, seen things. Last night was not normal for people, even the people of Gotham. They are most probably going to put it together, right now it’s just whether or not we tell them straight up, or deal with the backlash of them knowing we were lying to them when they figure it out later. I’m willing to go all in, but it’s not just my shit to spill.” I tell him.   
“I trust you” is all he says, which means more to me than a ‘yes’ ever will.


	25. Chapter 25

I take a deep breath before looking around the room at my team, wondering if I really want to put everything in their hands, but logic wins out eventually. I wasn’t lying to Damian, I really do only have two choices, tell them, or let them figure it out.   
“I need coffee and breakfast first” I mutter, almost laughing at the incredulous looks now floating around the room.   
I check on the kittens before making myself a plate of food, sitting down next to Damian after I grab a cup of coffee, taking my time with both.   
15 minutes later I have an impatient team and a grumpy Damian on my hands, not to mention my own reluctance to spill these particular secrets.   
So I stall a little more, collecting mine and Damian’s plates and washing them, drying them, and putting them away.   
“Fucking hell Tim, you can’t just build something up like that and then leave us hanging. I have too many things rolling through my head right now, and none of them are good.” Tony blurts, making me sigh in resignation.   
“I know” I tell him, walking to the doorway and tilting my head to let them know that I want them to follow me, waiting for Damian to make his way to my side before I continue on my way.   
“This doesn’t exactly seem like a secret” Tony mutters as I come to a halt in the middle of Bruce’s study.   
“This isn’t the secret” I retort, meeting Gibbs’s eyes for a moment before looking away from the knowing look I find there.   
I stride to the clock, opening it up and changing the hands to the correct time, causing the secret door to slide open, making Tony stop talking, which he hasn’t done since before we left the kitchen.   
“Woah” he mutters, peering over my shoulder at the darkness of the staircase below us.   
I just chuckle, flipping a lightswitch on the wall, illuminating the staircase as me and Damian start walking down the stairs, Damian leaning on me slightly for support.   
I pause once again, just before the staircase opens up for them to see the whole cave, looking over to Damian for a moment before I continue walking.   
“Holy shit” Tony says, his eyes glued on the life size T-Rex before moving along to other things.   
The rest of the team though, have their eyes glued to the glass cases at the bottom of the stairs, walking past me and Damian to get closer to them, drawing Tony’s attention.   
“Wait, that’s the Batsuit, and Red Hood’s, Nightwing’s, the second Robin’s suit….” he trails off, his mouth hanging open as he turns to face me, a stunned look on his face.   
“Do you remember when you mentioned Batman disappearing for two years?” I ask him, drawing the attention of the group back to me.   
“Yeah” Abby answers hesitantly.   
“He didn’t disappear, he died. Bruce Wayne was Batman, Damian took over two years after he died.” I tell them, watching their eyes widen, even though I knew they had to have suspected that of being the truth.   
“Bruce was Batman, Dick was the first Robin, he became Nightwing when Jason became Robin, when Jason died I took over as Robin, Because Batman wasn’t Batman without Robin. Long story short, Jason was brought back to life, but being dead, and the process to bring him back, left him with a lot of mental issues, anger issues, issues, issues. Anyway, that’s why he became the Red Hood, and when Damian got here, I became Red Robin, leaving the Robin mantle to him.   
Two months after they died, I put on the Batsuit, Damian put on my suit, and we killed the Joker, now, I know. Murder is wrong, you can’t just kill people.   
The Joker was a sadistic fuck though, and he killed our whole family, not to mention the fact that he had killed Jason years before, and all of the other families that he had torn apart over the years, literally and figuratively.   
Two years after that, me and Damian finally both agreed that he could go out as Batman, I wasn’t going to take over that mantle, but for the first year after he did, I went out with him as Red Robin. After that I hung up my vigilante title for good, I manned the comms, and made sure that there was always a leaguer available for backup when I left on business. He’s been Batman since he was 15, and he went solo for good when I left to join NCIS.” I tell them, waiting for questions.   
“What. The. Fuck.Tim? I-I’m sorry, i’m just having a little trouble reconciling Tim McGeek, my dorky teammate who can’t fight, and is obsessed with computers. And Tim Drake, Robin and Red Robin, the guy who owns multiple companies and raised his little brother after his family, who were apparently all vigilantes, were murdered by the Joker.” Tony says, his eyes flitting between me and the rest of the things in the cave.   
“I get it, but this is me. This was my life, is my life. There isn’t anything that I can do to change it, and I don’t want to, but i’m telling you now.” I tell him, silently pleading for them to believe me.   
“Yeah, but like you said up there, the only reason that you are telling us is because you don’t have any other choice, we would have eventually figured it out” he retorts.   
“Yes. I am telling you because I have no other choice. None of you understand though, this is an entire other life that I led, I have family and friends, people that don’t know that i’m Tim Drake in real life, and people that do.  
You are the first people that i’ve ever told that weren’t in the game already though, this isn’t some dumb secret that’s thrown around willy-fucking-nilly. This secret is life and death, this secret is everything, it’s years of helping people, and amassing enemies by the dozens.   
My father was one of the founding members of the Justice League, my older brother was slated to become the leader of Young Justice, and we were all slated to join the League. We have family and enemies in this game, and we’ve never told a group, or a single civilian like this before.   
I understand your dislike of being lied to, but you are the first people that i’ve ever told this before, the only ones that I trusted enough to tell, or let figure it out, without pulling strings and taking drastic measures to make sure that you never did.” I tell him, shoving my hand through my hair anxiously.   
“I get it Tim, but you’re right. This is a whole entire life that you hid, family and friends, enemies and everything in between. You didn’t just lie to us about being Tim Drake because your family died, we could deal with that Tim... but you hid an entire lifetime of secrets from us. It’s going to take a while.” Tony says, stalking off towards the Batmobile and my R-Cycle.   
I feel my breath slowly seep out of my lungs, and it takes more willpower than it should to drag another in.   
“Tony is right Tim, this is a lot. We aren’t saying that we can’t figure this out, just that it will take a while.” Abby says, walking after Tony after a lingering glance towards me.   
“I understand your reluctance to reveal this, but it is a lot to take in” Ducky says softly, his accent in the cave punching the air out of my chest, making me expect Alfred, in his tailored suit, to come walking down the stairs, scolding me for staying up all night and ordering me to bed.   
“I didn’t think you capable of keeping a secret like this Tim, it is a lot to, process” Ziva says, pausing to find the correct word.   
Gibbs just stares at me for a few moments before nodding and walking over to the giant penny, an unreadable look in his eyes and an unidentifiable emotion written in the lines of his face.   
“That went better than I was expecting” I mutter, seeing Damian nod out of the corner of my eye, a blank look on his face.


	26. Chapter 26

“Okay, how about I show you guys around” I call out, watching as everyone looks up from whatever they are inspecting.   
I just nod resolutely, gently pushing Damian down into the chair in front of the supercomputer as I walk through the center of the cave, ignoring his glare, and pausing for everyone to catch up to me.   
“This is our training area” I tell them, indicating towards the corner of the cave that’s occupied by everything you would have in a regular gym, as well as an expansive rockwall up the side of the cave, a trapeze, uneven bars, a square of mats for sparring and a bunch of racks and shelves for weapons.   
“Damn” Tony mutters, staring up at the rockwall that reaches all the way out of sight.   
“You wanna try?” I ask hoping to dissipate some of the tension.   
“Do you have ropes?” he asks, now looking more warily at the wall.   
“I can set one up if you wanna try it out” I offer, knowing that we have a hookup for a belay line at the top, I would just have to thread a rope through it.   
“Sure” he says, apparently excited about it now that the dying factor is removed.   
I just nod my head, ducking into an alcove and emerging with a long ass rope in my hands.   
“Just give me a minute” I tell them, hooking the rope over my shoulder like I would a cross body bag.   
It’s only when i’ve gotten a few feet up the wall that anyone says anything.   
“Um, Tim?” Abby calls.   
“Yeah?” I ask, continuing on higher and higher.   
“Why are you climbing the wall?” she asks.   
“Uh, to attach the rope” I answer, scrambling up a particularly difficult part, putting my distance about halfway up the wall, my team beginning to look smaller and smaller below me as I climb.   
“Are you going all the way up there without a rope?” she asks, concern clear in her voice.   
“Yup” I answer, smirking to myself as I realise that it will probably scare the shit out of somebody down there if I go down like I usually do.   
They look tiny as I reach the top, and I know that they probably can’t even see me in the dark of the top of the cave. I thread my leg through a loop of rope that was anchored at the top for this very reason, seeing as Bruce needed both hands to install the attachment for the belay line when he took Dick in.   
Bruce didn’t let us go up without a harness until he knew that we could safely fall from the top of the wall without getting hurt, meaning that we had to be able to use whatever was on us or in the cave to make it safely to the ground after jumping off the top of the wall. With Bruce spotting us of course.   
It took a while, but the wall is a lot more fun without ropes, and it isn’t scary because we know that we can catch ourselves.   
I finish getting the rope set up, double checking that everything is hooked up the right way and that nothing is rusting or anything before I grin down at the them, pulling my leg out of the loop of rope, I take a steadying breath before I jump, giggling at the screams I hear below me.   
It’s as easy as breathing, a hold here, kick off there, slow down using that alcove, spin off that wall, hook a couple fingers in that handhold and there. Grab the highest uneven bar, flip over it a few times before flipping to the next lowest, a twist here, a kick here for more momentum. Land.   
“I’ll go grab you a harness” I tell Tony, a grin spreading over my face as I watch the horror slowly fade from my teammates faces.   
“What. The. Fuck. Tim?!” Tony mutters, breathing for the first time since I landed in front of them.   
“I thought it would be funny” I tell him, not able to tear the grin from my face.   
“No, n-not funny Timothy!” Abby yells, causing my eyes to widen.   
“Sorry, I wanted to scare you, not, I mean, not that bad, just, like. Um, nevermind, sorry.” I tell her, remembering that these people aren’t accustomed to people doing shit like that, and in my head I knew that, but they were here, and I was just hit with this urge, so I acted on it, and I probably should have thought it through a little more than I did.   
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you that much, I just thought it would be funny, but you guys aren’t used to that kind of funny, so I guess it wasn’t really that funny. Sorry” I say again, feeling bad as I catch sight of the paleness of Abby and Ducky, the fear I see in Gibbs’s eyes and the horror still lingering in Tony’s. Ziva seems to be the only one not as affected by my stunt, although she seems a little out of breath, a worried look lingering on her face.   
“How about we come back to the rock wall” Tony says, looking a little shaken.   
“Yeah, sure. I’ll just finish showing you guys around” I tell them, catching sight of Damian leaning against the wall a ways away from us, a smirk on his face that lets me know he most likely saw my stunt.   
‘Showoff’ he mouths, a smile playing on his lips.   
‘Asshole’ I mouth back, turning around and leading my team over to the door to the locker room, pausing as I see Damian push off the wall, walking closer to our group.   
It only takes him a few moments to catch up, and when he does, I push open the door to the locker room, sweeping my arm out in front of me, indicating towards the showers, lockers, and stalls.   
“Did you go out last night?” Damian asks, and I follow his line of sight, catching sight of the underclothes that I wear under my Red Robin suit in the laundry basket.   
“Yeah” I tell him, feeling the weight of my team’s stares as they all fall on me.   
“Why?” he asks, sounding suspicious.   
“I went out to have a, conversation, with Penguin. Then I went and paid Gordon a visit, he’ll be getting us a sample of the drug they used on you.” I tell him, well aware of the now suspicious looks being shot my way.   
“I could have taken care of that” he says carefully, as if unsure how I will react.   
“I know, but I think it’s time they realise that Red Robin isn’t dead, that Batman still has people backing him up when they think they can go after him. Besides, he’s been fucking with our case, I thought it would be helpful if he was a little rattled while we try and find our guy, a rattled Penguin is a sloppy Penguin. Gordon said to rest until you’re better, there are other people willing to look after Gotham while you heal.” I tell him, not upset that he’s questioning me about going out, like he apparently thought I would be.   
“Gotham is my responsibility” is all he says, averting his eyes to the floor.   
“It’s not yours alone. It has good cops now, and the Justice League has always been more than happy to watch our city when you get hurt. Hell, they were more than happy to keep an eye on it just to get Bruce to take a break every once in a while, not that he ever listened to them.” I tell him, knowing that i’m right on this one.   
“Are you trying to tell me that i’m too much like Father?” Damian asks, sounding a little, off. Not upset, or angry, just, off.   
“No, i’m just saying that maybe there are some things that you don’t want to inherit from him. Like the stubbornness that almost got him killed, more than once. Or never being willing to take a break unless it was a life or death situation, I mean, even he realised that he could loosen up a bit on that one, it took some wearing down from us on that one though. What I mean, Damian, is that you already have all of his good qualities, you don’t need to be adopting his bad ones.” I tell him.   
“Yeah” he says, still sounding off.


	27. Chapter 27

The rest of the tour goes pretty smoothly, and Tony only gets about halfway up the rockwall before quitting, not being able to find a viable route to the top, Ziva decides that she wants a turn next, making it only another eighth further up the wall than Tony before calling it quits, making my team send me a lot of odd looks, realising that Tony and Ziva couldn’t find a route up, yet I somehow made my way up the wall without a rope and without slowing down.   
“I mapped my route” I tell them when Ziva descends the wall, a thoughtful look on her face, no doubt still trying to figure out a route in her head.   
“Huh?” Tony asks   
“In my head, I saw which way would be the best to get up, and I took it. I figured out where I was going before I set foot on the wall” I tell them, putting the harnesses away before leading them out of the cave, back up the stairs and into Bruce’s study.   
“I’ve got to feed the kittens” Damian says, looking down at his watch with a frown.   
“You guys should go up to your rooms and get some work clothes on, we should get a headstart on the case while Penguin is freshly rattled” I tell them, hoping to get rid of them long enough to talk to Damian, wanting to know what’s up with him.   
“Hey” I greet, walking into the kitchen and helping him set up to feed the kittens.   
“Hey” he greets back distractedly.   
“Damian, what’s going on?” I ask, causing him to look up at me, a thoughtful look on his face.   
“Nothing” he answers after a moment, bringing his attention back to the kittens.   
“Bullshit. You don’t sound like yourself, what’s wrong?” I ask again, wanting to get to the bottom of this before I leave for the day, having decided earlier that working on the case would be better than sitting around all day, trying to figure out what to say to my team as they try to process my entire previous life.   
“I just, I was thinking. What if I am too much like him? Father was a, complicated man, and there was no doubt that he loved us, that he would have done anything for us, to protect us, to save us, but there were things about him that were, not good.   
He had a side to him that was brutal, and I used to think that he was too reserved, too easy on criminals, but looking back on it now, I realise, that there was this, darkness in him, and he was good at keeping it back, but sometimes, he would let go, and it was terrifying.  
“And it scares me, because sometimes I see that darkness in me too, not just a trained killer like when I was growing up, or killing being something that i’m capable of doing, but it’s something that I want.   
“Sometimes, I get so angry, and I want to make someone hurt, and the only thing stopping me is their memory, and knowing that you would be, so disappointed, if I followed through on something like that. I want to though, so much so it hurts, and I'm scared, that that darkness is going to eat me alive, because what do I have to keep it at bay? Memories of my dead family and a brother who lives hours away? A team that my dead brother considered family and one that my dead father considered close friends, but that were never close to me? A cold and empty house that I fill with pets just to make myself feel less alone? I have a job that I hate, more money than I know what to do with, and a mantle that I can’t let go of, but that I'm scared is going to be the end of me. I’m scared that I'm going to become one of them. One of the monsters.” Damian says, and the complete outpouring of emotion worries me, because Damian has never done this before. It scares me, because the strongest person I know, is terrified that he’s going to break.   
“How long have you been feeling like this Damian?” I ask, wanting to know how long he’s been hurting like this without telling me.   
“I don’t know, a long time” he mutters, wiping away the single tear that falls down his cheek.   
“You can’t- you need to tell me these things Damian, not just when I push you for them. Like it or not you are my baby brother, and that’s my job, to know when you’re going to break, and to help you put your pieces back together.” I tell him, snapping my head to the side as I hear footsteps on the stairs.   
“I changed my mind, i’ve got something I need to take care of today. Feed the kittens, stay out of the cave and entertain yourselves.” I tell my team, who’ve just walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.   
I grab Damian by the arm, taking him the long way around to the master bedroom, making sure no one sees his red eyes and slumped form.   
“Come here” I beckon, climbing onto Bruce’s bed, pulling on his sleeve to get him to join me.   
“We all saw Bruce’s, darkness, at some point or another, but I think I saw him at his darkest, at least in the Robin generation. It was right after Jason died, and he was brutal. He lost a son, and he was so angry, him and Dick were still fighting back then, and Dick was too far into his own anger to see how bad it was getting.  
I was removed from the situation though, and I saw, I saw that anger, that darkness, and he let it run free, freer than i’d ever seen him let it before, he absolutely destroyed people, instead of leaving them knocked out for the cops to find, he left them in coma’s, or full body casts.   
It wasn’t pretty.  
So I stepped up, and it took a lot of convincing, but when he finally had someone holding him back, someone that he was scared of teaching that darkness to, someone he didn’t want learning things like that, someone to hold him accountable for his actions, he got it under control again.   
You are right Damian, you and him, are scarily alike. I’ve seen that darkness in you, I had always hoped though, that you wouldn’t ever get to the point that you realised it, that it became so dark, and that it had so much power over you, that you were scared of yourself, and that’s a point I think Bruce reached long before he ever took Dick in. I think it’s part of the reason he was so anal about control, everything had to be controlled, down to your micro-expressions, but I think it’s something he knew that he needed, to be so in control of himself, that the darkness wouldn’t slip by him again.   
Now, i’m not saying that you need to adopt a kid, although that was definitely a turning point for him, but I do think that you need to take a step, or eight, back from Batman, and you need to find something that makes you happy, something that you can turn to when that darkness gets to be too much, something that gives you something to fight for. You need something to stay good for, because their memory, and my disappointment, isn’t going to be enough for much longer.   
I would love to be the thing that you need to stay good for, but I know that i’m not enough. You need to find something that is though, okay?” I ask, reaching out and turning his head my way, needing to look him in the eyes and make sure that he hears what i’m telling him.   
My hand comes away wet, and when he looks at me, I can see the tears that must have been silently streaming down his face, his eyes are red rimmed and tears are spilling over, running down his cheeks as he makes no move to wipe them away.   
“Yeah” he mutters, but I can hear the raw honesty in his statement, and a moment later I have an armful of shaking Damian in my lap, his face pressed to my shoulder and his arms wrapped around my torso, knocking me back into the pillows at the head of the bed.   
“You’re gonna be okay” I murmur, holding him tight as tears start to spill down my own cheeks, my chest tightening as I realise what he’s been going through, for years, by himself.   
“You have to be” I whisper.


	28. Chapter 28

It takes a while for the both of us to get ourselves under control, and i’m not sure how long we’ve been sitting in Bruce’s bed by the time we have, but I do know that the kittens probably need to be fed again.   
I double check, bringing my watch up towards my face to check the time.   
“The kittens need to be fed, you go take a shower, get cleaned up. I’ll take care of them.” I tell him, knowing that it will take awhile for his face to not be puffy and his eyes to not be red.   
He nods his head, slipping from the bed and Bruce’s room, I follow shortly after, watching his form disappear down the hallway as I head for the stairs, making my way back to the kitchen, coming up short when I see my team sitting at the table eating lunch when I do, their conversation coming to a halt when I walk into the room.   
“Don’t mind me, just feeding the kittens” I mutter, tilting my head down as I walk towards the kittens, setting up the bottles.   
“Are you alright Tim?” Tony asks softly as he walks up next to me, helping me set up the milk replacer.   
“Nope” I mutter, running my hand down my face before I plaster a smile on, straightening my shoulders and running a hand through my hair.   
He doesn’t say anything after that, simply helping me set everything up before helping me feed them.   
After they have eaten I grab some leftover chinese food from the fridge, hopping up to sit on the edge of the counter as I eat my lunch, smiling awkwardly at my team when they look my way.   
Damian comes down a while later, just as i’m finishing my lunch, and I pull out a different container of food, handing it to him with chopsticks.   
“Not hungry” he says, walking over to check on his kittens.   
“I don’t care, eat something” I tell him.   
“I’m not hungry Tim” he says, more forcefully this time   
“Your body is healing, you need to eat something, unless of course you want to get put on bedrest with an I.V to get you the nutrients that you need.” I threaten, knowing that given that choice he’ll eat his fucking lunch.   
“Fucking asshole” he mutters without conviction, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.   
“I know, i’m the worst” I quip, handing him the food once more.   
“This means that you need to cook dinner, we all know injured people can’t live off takeout if they want to get better” he says, a smile on his face.   
“I could have sworn that you were arguing for the exact opposite a few years ago” I say, a questioning lilt to my voice.   
“I’ve gotten wiser” he says simply, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening it up to something before tossing it my way.   
I catch it deftly, looking at what he pulled up on it.   
“A recipe for dumplings from scratch?” I question, looking up to see his smiling face.   
“We should start those soon then” I tell him, tossing the phone back his way.   
“I’ll even help you” he says, running a hand through his hair before walking to the fridge, pulling out ingredients and tossing them onto the counter next to me.   
“This seems like a premeditated thing” I mutter, watching as he deftly pulls out all the ingredients for homemade dumplings.   
All I get is a grin as he turns to throw an egg at me, turning before I catch it and pulling the last of the ingredients out.   
An hour later me and Damian are standing at the island, filling and pressing the dumpling wrappings closed before putting them on a tray for us to cook when we are done with filling them.   
The team had left and returned a while ago, apparently finding nothing more interesting to do than to watch me and Damian cook.   
“Can I help?” Abby asks then, walking up to the two of us with a smile on her face.   
“Sure” Damian says, moving over to make room and then showing her how to fill and press them. Causing a small smile to breakout on my face, seeing my previously socially fucked up little brother taking the initiative to interact with someone that he doesn’t have to.   
“What are you smirking at?” he asks a moment later   
“Nothing, and it’s a smile” I say, causing him to roll his eyes and continue his work with Abby.   
Damian moves over to the stove a few minutes later, stirring the vegetables that are frying.   
“Fucking shit!” he exclaims a moment later, ripping his shirt over his head as he glares accusingly at the large spot of hot oil that was spattered on the front of his shirt, I quickly move towards him, running my eyes over his torso and letting out a breath of relief when I see that the spot is only slightly red, and that oil didn’t get into any of his cuts and abrasions.   
“And you wonder why I don’t want to fucking learn how to cook, more dangerous than fucking crime alley” he mutters, balling up his shirt and wiping the remaining oil off his torso.   
“Holy shit” I hear Abby mutter quietly from behind me, and I turn to see a sad, sort of horrified look on her face, I track her eyes back to Damian’s torso, only when looking at it as though through her eyes do I really see the scars mapped across his torso.  
They aren’t any different then mine, except for the ones on my back, he doesn’t have those, thankfully though, the ones on my back had distracted Tony from paying too much attention to my other scars.   
There are bullet scars, knife wounds, a small J carved into his hip from when he was captured by the Joker, I have a similar one on my pec, there are burn scars and puncture wounds. He has what looks like a large dog bite on his side, but that I know is really from a bear trap while he was in costume. It would have killed him if it wasn’t for the armour, and thankfully I was only a few rooftops away at that point, and was able to get him to Doc Thompkins before he lost too much blood.   
I watch as he grows increasingly more uncomfortable under their combined gazes, seemingly rooted to the spot as they scrutinise him and I quickly pull off my own shirt, shoving it into his arms and watching as he yanks it over his head, a frown pulling his lips down.   
I stand there for a moment longer, watching as their attention shifts to me, before I walk from the room, up the stairs and into my room, pulling a random shirt from my closet over my head before I make my way downstairs, knowing that Damian won’t like being left alone with them for a prolonged period of time.   
“Let’s finish these so we can get them on the stove” I comment when i’m back in the kitchen, breaking the awkward silence.   
I quickly realise that no one is going to speak to keep it at bay, so I reach into my pocket, pulling out my phone and connecting it to the speaker I had hooked up in the kitchen, putting on some music to fill the silence.   
I look up a moment later to see Tony smiling as he stares at the shirt i’m wearing, causing me to look down at it.   
“This news makes every superhero shirt that i’ve ever seen you in ten times funnier” Tony says with a chuckle, looking at the Nightwing shirt that i’ve got on.   
“Dick used to buy them all the time, he thought it was so funny, especially when the Justice League came about, he used to buy them for Bruce all the time, and himself, christmas, birthdays, whenever he saw a new one in the store. Bruce hated them, tried to steal his all the time, threatened to burn them, so Dick used to hide them in my closet, cause nobody would go into my room. Half of my closet is literally all superhero shirts, pajamas, socks, underwear, not to mention the merchandise he bought that has taken over my room. All my friends used to think that I was a huge hero geek.” I explain, a smile on my face as I think about them, the pain that usually constricts my chest when I think about them just a little less sharp than it usually is, the frown wanting to pull at my lips a little less insistent, the bad memories trying to push to the forefront of my mind a little easier to push back.


	29. Chapter 29

That night I go out once more as Red Robin, this time to collect the sample from Gordon and to track down the asshole that dragged me and my team to Gotham in the first place, and it’s then that I remember how much quicker it is to get things done when you aren’t wading through mountains of red tape and mundane laws.   
All I had to do was stake out Penguins club, waiting for him to show up, which took less than an hour, then I snuck in through the same window as last time, knocked out the same guard as last time, and made my way silently through the upper floor of the building, following the man until he was in a sufficiently secluded corner, quickly knocking him out before I handcuff him with zip-ties, throwing him over my shoulder and going out the same window I came in through.   
I sling him over the back of my R-Cycle, speeding through the streets before pulling up outside Gordons precaint, I dump the guy outside the front doors before dropping a note through Gordon’s window, making my way to the roof to wait for him to book the guy before he comes to meet me.   
It takes about a half an hour, but Gordon doesn’t disappoint, walking out onto the rooftop with two cups of steaming coffee, and a plastic bag holding a syringe with a blue tinted liquid in it.   
“Can you let the NCIS team take credit for the guy that I dropped off? They need it, otherwise they won’t be allowed to follow cases long distance anymore” I ask him, accepting the bag and the coffee.   
“Don’t worry, i’ll make sure they get credit for the arrest, just have them drop by the station tomorrow morning to give their statements.” Gordon says, taking a sip of his coffee as he leans against the brick barrier separating him from a bloody death.   
“Thank you” I say, letting go a sigh of relief.   
“How is Batman” he asks, and it still seems to bother him, calling Damian Batman when it was his friend that he called that for years, and now it’s his friends son.   
“He’ll be okay, i’m planning on keeping him off the streets until he’s recovered. He’s got some issues though, Jim. I told him to take a few steps back from Batman, it’s, not good for him to be this invested in something that’s tearing him apart. He wasn’t built for this, not like Bruce was. He’s great at it, don’t get me wrong, but I never actually saw this being his life, I always thought he would be the one to branch off, not leave, he didn’t have that in him, but being this invested, this, tangled into this web of crime and horror and death, I didn’t see that as his future. It is his future though, and I can’t tell him what to do, but I did tell him to take a step back. I know, that Bruce talked to you, about us, and seeing as none of us have been outed yet, I figure you are a pretty solid person to talk to. I just, I need an impartial party to talk to.” I tell him, watching as his features soften, and he turns to face me more fully.   
“From what i’ve seen, he’s great at it, being Batman I mean. He’s still got things to learn, things that just take time to learn, and i’ve also noticed that he’s not, thriving emotionally. He’s a good kid, an amazing vigilante, but he’s got some of the same issues his father did, i’ve told him more times than I can count to take a step back, just like I told Bruce, i’m hoping though, that with you being the one to tell him, that he’ll listen.” Jim says, taking a sip of his coffee as he finishes speaking.   
“You were one of the closest friends that my father had, and i’m pretty sure the only one he talked to about us. I’m glad, that you are still here, everyone else, the League, Young Justice, they wanted to, still want to be here for us, but they have lives, and kids, secret identities, jobs, cities of their own to protect. We appreciate it, that they try so hard to be there for us, but it just, doesn’t always work out that way. You have always been there for us though, and I just, thank you, for not leaving, for not believing the shit that the news has on about us.” I tell him.   
“It’s not something that I ever had to think about Red, this job is, fucking hard, on every part of my life, and just, having you all there, night after night, just to sit with, or to talk to. You aren’t the only ones who got something out of this, thing, whatever it is, friendship, or whatever.” he says, staring out onto the Gotham skyline.   
“How’s Bab’s?” I ask after a moment, wondering how our wayward hacker is doing.   
“She’s good. Her and little Noah are settling down in New York. I am sorry, that she, left so soon after they died, I know how much you all missed having her around, especially since you had just lost them. She just-” I cut him off   
“I know Jim, we know. She was pregnant, and her fiance had just died. It was too, raw, for her here. We would have loved to see her, to have her stay, but she needed to leave, she needed space and time, and we understood that, we still do. She still refuses to come back here, but I drive up every now and then to visit her and Noah, so does Damian. She was happy the last time I saw her, she was going out on a date and I babysat Noah for her, she finally has a few pictures of him up, and Noah knows who his dad is. She’s doing good.” I tell him, remembering the sad sort of smile on her face as she told me about the guy she was going on a date with, her eyes kept straying to the pictures of him that were scattered around her apartment.   
She seemed like she was waiting for me to tell her not to go.   
“Bab’s, you are like the sister that I never had, and we were so happy that you guys were going to get married, that you were pregnant and that you were happy, but he’s gone. I’m not going to tell you not to go, because I think you need to, you thought you were ready enough to accept his invitation, and he seems like a good guy. I’ll watch Noah for you, you go, have fun, and if he hurts you, i’ll help bury the body.” I tell her, leaning forward to hug her as a tear falls down her cheek.   
“I still miss him, Tim, so so much” she says, her voice muffled by my shoulder.   
“I know, we all do, everyday. But you thought that this was a good idea, me being here shouldn’t change that, if you hate it, if you decide that you aren’t really ready, if anything, you tell me, i’ll support you, but you need to try first, and who knows, maybe he’ll be a great guy.” I say, leaning back to look her in the eyes.   
“He is a great guy, but I don’t know if anyone will measure up to what we had” she says softly, as if imparting her deepest secret.   
“Maybe they won’t, maybe you will never be as madly, or as deeply in love as you were with him, but you will never know if you don’t try, and we both know that Dick would never want you to be unhappy because of him, he would never want you to not put yourself out there, because you were scared of failure. He loved you, and he wanted you to be happy, whether it was him that made you happy, or somebody else.” I tell her   
“He definitely wanted it to be him” she says with a small chuckle   
“There is no doubt in my mind about that Bab’s, but he told me, when you guys broke up that first time, that he loved you so much, that all he wanted was you to be happy, and if being with him didn’t, than he was willing to let you go, to let you find someone that did. He was so happy when you guys got back together, when the timing was right and everything fell into place for the two of you. He was always willing to let you go though, so you could be happy, he wouldn’t want something that can never be, to hold you back from something that could. I don’t know if you get more than one great love story in life, but I also know that you will never find out if you don’t try.” I tell her, hearing how cheesy that line is coming out of my mouth, but also believing it with all of my heart.   
“Thank you Tim” she whispers, a smile on her face as she wipes the tears off her cheeks.   
“Anytime” I mutter, wiping away a stray tear of my own, the conversation bringing back memories of how happy the two of them were, and how one stupid fucking apartment hunt ended it all.


	30. Chapter 30

“I think i’m going to be spending more time in Gotham” I tell Jim, dragging myself from my thoughts.   
“That’s good” he says  
“Yeah, i’m going to make sure he really does take a step back, just be more, present. I thought he was fine, when I left, but he’s not, not really, and he still needed me, more than I realised.” I say, my chest tightening as I think of how much I didn’t see, simply because I wanted out.   
“He’s gonna be alright Red, it might take him a while, but he’s a fighter, just like your dad. You’ll both be just fine, it might not always seem like it, but you will.” Jim says, turning to look at me once more, reaching out a hand to take my empty coffee mug.   
“I hope your right” I tell him, handing him the mug and disappearing over the edge of the building as he turns to put them down.   
I once again wait to see the small smile spread over his face at my disappearance before I make my way across a few rooftops, planning on going to my R-Cycle.   
I get distracted by a mugging before I get there though, stopping quickly to knock the guys out before i’m on my way again.   
A few more small crimes later and i’ve decided that I might as well go on patrol, knowing that if someone doesn’t, that Damian will try to.   
I made sure before I left that Damian would be getting up to feed the kittens, so for the next few hours, I simply lose myself in the soothing movement of running across rooftops and soaring through the air, stopping crimes all around me, and by the time the sun is peeking over the horizon, i’m wiped.   
I quickly make my way back to my R-Cycle, hopping on and speeding up the usual twenty minute ride so that i’m back to the manor within ten.   
I give Damian a tired grin as I park my R-Cycle in the cave, pulling my mask off, i’m slightly surprised to see the Team gathered in the cave, taking turns trying to scale the rock wall.   
Ziva is stuck at the same place she was last time, and I can tell from the way Damian’s eyes are flitting along the wall that he’s already figured out the best route for her, based on her height, weight, and muscle mass, which are approximate guesses, but with the way we were trained, pretty fucking accurate.   
“I’m gonna go change” I tell Damian, watching as my team turns to look at me, my silent R-Cycle having not alerted them to my presence, but my voice does.   
“Where have you been?” Tony asks, looking over my suit.   
“Patrol” I answer simply.   
“That’s a thing?” he asks then   
“Yeah, how do you think we keep crime rates down? Every night, patrol. Minor crimes, less minor crimes, anything we run across. There are different routes, six of them, one for each of us, and we used to switch off every night. There are also a few ones that are for one person to get across the whole city, one for two people, three people, four, five, six, you get the point. We also work cases, taking on organised crime, but patrol never stops. It keeps everyone in line.” I tell them, explaining how it works.   
“Oh, that, makes sense” he says after a moment.   
“Yeah, i’m gonna go change now” I tell him, turning and going into the locker room, emerging 15 minutes later, showered and dressed in sweatpants and a tank-top, my go to comfortable clothes.   
When I see that Tony is now the one about halfway up the wall, I decide to join them, walking over to see him struggling with where he can put his foot so that he can get high enough to grab the next handhold, so it’s with a grin that I get my tired muscles moving once more, grabbing ahold of one of the lowest handholds a few feet to the left of where Tony is on the wall, quickly scaling my way up so that i’m next to him.   
“You want some help?” I ask, not wanting to just ruin the fun of figuring it out.   
“Fuck yes” he breathes out.   
“Okay, well, look around you, you need a foothold to put you higher up, a handhold to keep you steady, and another foothold so you don’t slip when you do go higher. Something like that” I say, pointing towards a divot in the cave wall.   
“That’s not part of the course” he says when I point it out.   
“You use everything you can to get to the top, fighting dirty is just how you fight” I tell him, echoing the words of my father from years ago, when he was teaching us how to fight more efficiently.   
“That doesn’t seem very hero-like” Tony mutters as he moves to the positions that I had pointed out.   
“Good thing i’m a vigilante” I quip, smirking at him as I switch the grip I have on one of the handholds, causing his eyes to widen slightly.   
“You don’t have a harness on do you?” he asks quietly.   
“Seeing as I only set one up, and you have it on, i’m gonna go with, uh, no.” I tell him, my mood soaring as I ride the high of my first patrol in three years.   
“Jesus christ Tim” he mutters, turning his head to look at my body pressed close to the wall, the wall that curves inward because, you know, it’s a cave.   
“Don’t worry Tony, I know how to fall” I tell him lightly, climbing with him and helping him out when he needs guidance.   
He grins when we finally reach the top, I quickly scramble the last few feet, hooking my leg through the loop of rope and giving my now exhausted muscles a break.   
“That was fun” I say, grinning down at Tony as he holds tight to the top handhold of the wall, a satisfied grin on his face.   
“Maybe you can do it by yourself next time” I tell him, unhooking my leg from the loop.   
“I’ll see you down there” I tell him, letting go of my grip on the wall, I let myself fall, longer than I did last time, a lot longer.   
I countdown the seconds until I know that I need to slow down to land safely, and I do so at the last second, pushing off the wall with my feet and doing a double front flip before I grab on of the pieces of rock that sticks out, using it to slow my descent before I do a few more flips, using certain things on the walls to slow down, until I once again reach the uneven bars.   
I grab onto the top one, swinging around it once, twice, three times, before I flip off, doing a quick backflip before catching myself on the next highest one, then the next highest one, until I land silently on the ground, a satisfied grin on my face.   
“I don’t think that will ever not scare the shit out of me” Abby mutters, one hand over her mouth and the other gripping Damian’s arm tightly, him looking on amused.   
“Fuck, I didn’t even realise how much I missed patrol” I tell Damian, my heart racing from the rush.   
“It’s addictive” he answers   
“You waited until the last second” he says immediately after.   
“Yeah” I say, to both of his statements.   
I can see the fear that he’s hidden flash to the surface, being buried a moment later as he gets ahold of his mask.   
I nod, answering his unspoken request, don’t scare him like that again, catch myself. The guilt makes it easier coming down from the rush of patrol, the climb, and waiting until the last second to catch myself.


	31. Chapter 31

I pull the bag that Jim gave me out of my pocket, tossing it to Damian.   
“Sample of the drug” I tell him, watching as he turns it over in his hands a few times, scrutinising it before he pivots, walking over to the lab portion of the cave.   
“He’ll be done in a few minutes, we should go grab breakfast” I tell my team, leading the way out of the cave and up into Bruce’s study.   
“You know, we should probably actually do what we are here to do today” Tony says as we walk through to the kitchen.   
“It’s taken care of, we need to stop by the precaint today, need to talk to a few people about the man we brought in last night” I say, holding back the smile that’s threatening to break through.   
“We didn’t bri-” Tony abruptly stops speaking.   
“Oh, that’s what you were doing all night” he says after a moment.   
“Yeah, found him at Penguins club, knocked him out and dropped him off at the station, Jim promised that our team would get credit” I tell them, pulling a box of cereal from the cabinet, the rest of the team making their own breakfasts around me.   
“Who’s Jim?” Abby asks   
“He’s the commissioner, when my dad first met him, he was one of the only cops in Gotham that wasn’t dirty, he’s a good cop.” I tell them, sitting down at the table with my breakfast, the rest of my team joining me moments later.   
“And he what? Works with vigilantes?” Tony asks through a mouthful of food.   
“Yes. He knew that most of the cops that he worked with were dirty, everyone was being paid off or threatened by one gang or another. He realised before anyone else that Batman was good, and that his goal was to help the city, he helped us out, and we helped him out. There are cases that the police can’t or won’t solve, shit did not get done, cases did not get solved. We help each other.” I tell them, remembering all the cases that we’ve solved with Jim’s help.   
Nobody answers me, all of them seemingly lost in thought.   
Damian comes up a few minutes later, getting a bowl of cereal together before plopping down next to me, shoveling a spoonful of food into his mouth.   
“How’s Jim?” he asks a moment later, letting me know he heard what I told them about him.   
“He’s good, he apologised again about Bab’s.” I tell him, remembering all the other times he’s expressed his feelings about how suddenly and completely Bab’s disappeared after Dick died.  
“We both know she needed out, her fiance just died, and she was pregnant with his baby. Not to mention how much she loved all of them. Fuck, nobody blamed her for leaving.” Damian says turning his head to look at me.   
“Yeah, I know. When was the last time you saw her?” I ask then, wondering how long it’s been since he’s seen our pseudo sister.   
“I drove up with Mary last month, she apparently likes me, and Noah loves her. Crock and West thought I would be a good babysitter.” Damian says, looking confused.   
“You’re good with kids Dami” I tell him, finishing my cereal.   
“They are so fucking small, breakable, scares the shit out of me” Damian mutters, causing me to laugh.   
I get up to put my bowl away, smiling at the fact that Damian just freely admitted to being scared of something, even if it was something small, like how small, breakable babies scare him, he admitted it.   
“We have to go meet Jim, we’ll be back later” I tell him, walking up the stairs to go get dressed, the rest of the team following when they finish their breakfasts.   
We are in the car a few minutes later, making our way towards the police station.   
“You know, you always struck me as an only child Tim” Tony says about halfway through the drive, breaking the silence.   
“I was, for a while. Brothers are so much better than being an only child though, even through they used to drive me up the fucking walls, tease me, taunt me, prank me, occasionally try to kill me. They were my brothers though, my family, and I miss them, so fucking much, everyday.” I tell him, turning away from the window to look at him when I answer.   
There is a beat of silence, before Gibbs’s of all people speaks up.  
“Try to kill you?” he asks suspiciously.   
“Jason and Damian tried to kill me. Um, Jason had pit rage from being brought back to life in the lazarus pit, and he was so fucking angry, he always saw me as his replacement, he was dead when Bruce took me in, and when he came back, his mantle, his place by Bruce’s side, was taken over by me. He tried to kill me for a long time, it wasn’t until the last year or two that he was alive that he really listened when I told him that I wasn’t there to replace him, that I was only there to prevent Bruce from fucking killing someone, from going over the edge. Damian though, he hated me. Jason lived in his safehouses, Dick lived in Bludhaven, and that left me there, I was the target of his anger, and he was more than willing to kill me to have his place as the Wayne, and Batman, heir secured. His animosity was well known, and everyone knew that he was trying to fucking kill me, but they also didn’t exactly do anything about it, Bruce and him had, issues, and Dick could only keep so tight of a leash on the kid. Obviously we have a different relationship now than we did then, and I don’t hold our past against him.” I tell them, explaining the previously strained relationships between me and my brothers.   
“Jesus” Tony mutters, his eyes wide.   
“We’re here” I say, drawing their attention away from me and towards the building that we are now parked outside of.   
“Let’s go” I mutter, pushing my door open and stepping out of the car, waiting a beat for my team to follow, walking towards the front doors.   
A few minutes later we are on our way towards Jim’s office, being escorted by an officer.   
“Thank you” I murmur as the cop leaves us outside the door.   
“Come in” Jim calls a moment after Gibb’s knocks on the door.  
“Hello, it’s nice to see you all again” Jim says with a smile, playing along with the ruse.   
“Hi” I greet, the rest of my team following suit.   
“The criminal that you brought in last night is in the process of being transferred to a high security prison in Gotham, I just wanted to say that it was a pleasure working with your team. Your boss has already been informed about the completed case” Jim says, taking a sip of his ever present coffee.   
“Thank you” Gibb’s says, and although hard to catch, I can hear the hesitance in his words.   
“Of course” Jim says, turning towards me after a moment.   
“It’s nice to see you again Tim” he says, causing me to smile.   
“You too Jim” I say, nodding.  
“How do you two know each other?” Gibb’s asks, apparently wanting to test both me and Jim about our knowing each other.   
“I was the one who had to chase this kid, and his brothers down, everytime they got kidnapped, which was way more often than is normal” Jim says, a smile creeping its way onto his face.   
“Aw, come on, you know you had fun trying to figure out who took us” I say, teasing him.   
“Fun is not the word I would use Tim. You were kids, being kidnapped by violent criminals, and your father was fucking overprotective, not to mention the pressure of the public when the prince of Gotham’s kids go missing, and everyone’s looking at you to find them.” he says, raising an eyebrow and scowling.  
“I feel like after the twelfth kidnapping it wasn’t really nerve-wracking anymore” I say, knowing how much Jim did not enjoy us being kidnapped.   
It left him with an angry Batman and no Robin to make him calm down.   
“Yeah, sure” he says, smiling at my effort to make him lighten up.   
“Go on, get outta here” he says, ushering me out of his office.   
“I thought you missed me?” I ask lightly, feeling like Dick with all the teasing i’m going on with.   
“Yup, i’m sure i’ll be seeing more of you” he says, shutting the door behind us.   
“I hadn’t realised just how close the two of you were” Abby says as we walk down the stairs.   
“He became one adult that I could talk to freely once they were gone. He knew about both sides of me, of us. He was one of my father’s closest friends, and they used to talk about their kids, their lives, a lot really. Once Bruce was dead though, he was more than willing to talk to me. We used to just know each other in passing, he would talk to Bruce and I would hang around in the shadows, but once it was just me and Damian, it was me who was talking to him, and it took Damian quite a while to come out of the shadows.” I tell them, not answering them until we are in the car.


	32. The End

2 years later 

“Happy holidays” I call to the bullpen, waving to my team as I get on the elevator, ready to start my vacation and get to the Manor.   
“Hey, hold the elevator!” Tony yells, grabbing his bag and his coat off his chair as he too rushes to get out of the office.   
I put my arm in front of the door, waiting for him to get in before I move my arm, grinning at him like a lunatic.   
“What’s that look for?” he asks warily.   
“Nothing, i’m just excited to get down to Gotham for Ellery’s first christmas” I tell him, toning down my madman grin.   
“Dude, she is so fucking cute, don’t forget to send pictures” he says, grinning over at me as we reach the ground floor, both of us booking it across the parking lot to our cars, waving bye as we both take off.   
My bag is already packed and waiting in my car, so all I have to do is drive to Gotham. 

A few hours later i’m pulling into the driveway, a smile on my face as I text Damian, letting him know that i’m here.   
“Hey asshole” he greets as I walk in the door, a soft smile on his face as his daughter lets out a squeal of joy, bouncing herself up and down in his arms when she catches sight of me.   
“Hand over the goods” I say, dropping my bag on the ground and reaching out for the bouncing baby, smiling when she giggles and pull her into my chest.   
“Hello Ellery” I coo, leaning over to hug Damian with one arm, a bright smile on all three of our faces.   
“You know, you are going to have to start watching your language around her” I tell him as he leans down and picks my bag up.   
“Yeah, I know” he says, the smile on his face never dwindling.   
Damian called me less than a month after we had finished our case in Gotham, telling me that he had gotten a girl that he was dating pregnant, that they had decided to have the baby, and that they were going to co-parent, both of them raising him or her.   
I used a lot of my vacation time during those next 9 months, constantly visiting and talking Damian off the precarious ledge he had found himself on, terrified that he would be a terrible dad, that he would fuck his kid up like his mom had done to him.   
He was a constantly shifting mix of excited and terrified, never sticking to one very long before shifting to the next, and then back again.   
The two of them were scared, and excited, and even though it wasn’t anything that either of them had planned, they were both so fucking happy.  
Clary was so sweet, and her and Damian would have made amazing parents, they hadn’t planned on getting married and tying themselves to one another for life, but they had planned on staying friends and raising their kid together.   
Clary died during childbirth though, and it tore Damian apart, but he was more determined than ever to give his baby a good life.   
It’s been a little less than a year since Clary died, and I still see this sad sort of look in his eyes sometimes when he looks at Ellery, but then she does something cute, or annoying, or nerve-wracking. She smiles, or cries, or rolls over, and this overwhelmingly happy look takes over everything else on my baby brothers face.   
I told him to find something to fight for, something to stay good for, and although she wasn’t planned, Ellery is just that.   
“Hey Timmy” I hear someone say from the doorway, and I grin when I see Bab’s roll in, a grin on her face as she catches sight of Ellery in my arms.   
“Uncle Tim!” I hear a young voice call out and I grin as Noah runs up to me, stopping a few feet short of me when he sees Ellery.   
“Hey buddy, you excited for Santa to come?” I ask, kneeling down so that I can pull him into my other side, hugging my nephew.   
“Yes! Me and Mommy already made cookies for him and our presents are under the tree” he says, pulling away from me and holding two of his fingers out towards Ellery’s grasping hands, smiling wider when she grabs onto them.   
“Awesome, why don’t you take these presents and put them under the tree” I tell him, reaching over with my free arm and sliding a huge bag of presents towards him, laughing softly when he gently disentangles his fingers from Ellery’s, picking up the bag of presents and grunting slightly when he goes to drag it down the hall towards the tree.   
“Tim!” I hear another voice call out and I grin when Lian runs into the room, stopping just short of me and then darting into my side to give me a quick hug, Roy walking into the room behind her, a smile on his face as he takes in everyone standing in the room.   
“Hey kid” I greet, hugging her back.   
“Roy” I greet, hugging him as well, and protesting when he stealthily pulls Ellery from my arms and into his chest, grinning at the once again giggling baby.   
“Oh come on, I haven’t seen her in like 2 weeks” I groan, holding my hands out, pouting and demanding more time with my niece.   
“Fine” he grumbles, handing her back to me.   
I watch as Lian disappears around the corner, most likely going to help Noah put the presents under the tree.   
“I need some food” I mutter, leading the way to the kitchen, grinning when I see Macy, the cleft palate kitten, who’s no longer a kitten, laying on the counter.   
“Hey Macy” I greet, running my hand over her fur and smiling when she purrs, lowering Ellery towards the cat when she starts bouncing and reaching for her, and Macy simply lays there with a tolerant flick of her tail as Ellery ‘pets’ her.   
“Hello Tim” I hear a deep voice say, making me look up from the cat and pull Ellery away from her.   
“Jim” I greet, grinning when he holds his hands out, laughing when Ellery starts bouncing in my arms, more than willing to flat-leave me for him.   
I reluctantly hand her over, smiling when she cuddles into his chest, a satisfied look on her face as he starts swaying back and forth with her.   
Everyone eventually sits down at the table, choosing to either sit back and watch the room, or to participate in one conversation or another.   
I almost spit out the mouthful of cereal I have in my mouth when I hear Ellery speak up. Jim has been talking to her quietly for a few minutes now, the two of them off in their own little world, but they garner the attention of the whole table when Jim holds her around her middle, letting her stand on his knees and bounce up and down at will, there is a grin on her face as she gleefully exclaims a word I know she learned from her dad.   
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she starts chanting, and although she’s been saying a few words for a while now, this is a new development.   
She turns her head slightly to look at me when I burst out laughing, joining me a moment later with the rest of the table.   
“Oh my god Damian, you really do need to start watching your mouth around her” I tell him, laughing so hard my stomach hurts.   
It hits me then, with all of us sitting around the table laughing.   
It isn’t just me and Damian anymore.   
We have a family, we did what Bruce did, we built ourselves a family, people that we love and trust.   
I smile when, after everyone stops laughing at the colorful language of Damian’s baby girl, I see Lian teasing Noah about a crush he has, Roy attack hugging Damian, Ellery starting to fall asleep on Jim’s chest, and Bab’s leaning her head on her dad’s shoulder, smiling at the handful of her hair that Ellery is holding.   
I lean back into my chair as Wally and Artemis walk into the kitchen, a sleepy Mary on Wally’s shoulder, and I happily accept the sleepy toddler when Wally passes her to me, leaning down to hug me from behind after she settles down, Artemis following suit with a smile and a soft kiss dropped on the top of Mary’s head.   
It’s christmas eve, and even though my chest twinges, and I can’t help but look around for the missing part of my family, the happiness that i’m feeling at this moment mixes with the sadness, leaving a melancholy sort of feeling in its wake.  
Our house is no longer empty and cold, it’s filled with family, laughter, and love.   
We aren’t alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! I absolutely loved writing this fic. Every single fic that i’ve written before, that’s multiple chapters, I always, always, lose steam, or direction. That’s probably because I don’t actually plot out where my stories are going, I just get an idea for a scene, whether it’s the end, the middle, or the beginning, and I write around that one scene. This is different though, this entire fic flowed, every time I thought I would run out of ideas on where I wanted this to go, another one would pop into my head. The only hard thing was ending this, but I loved the ending.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? good? bad? meh? lemme know what you think. :)


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